


Back To Her Arms

by SunsetOrchids



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Aliens, Back to Her Arms, Conspiracy, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Gen, Mystery, Original Fiction, Outer Space, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Sex, Slow Romance, Space Magic, Space Opera, Space Pirates, romantic sex, vanilla sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-25 03:54:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 82
Words: 251,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21531310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunsetOrchids/pseuds/SunsetOrchids
Summary: Raised on a cargo ship that makes regular trips across Andromeda, Topaz Omorin, a hylerian slave, served her master as a jack of all trades: from deliveries to sales to the occasional intimidation, she did it all. Kept compliant and hidden from prying Federation eyes, she never really questioned why until one of her own kind found her far, far from home. Forced to work with him, her universe quickly expands beyond her own crew. The more she learns the more apparent it becomes she must unravel the mystery that is her ancestor's home before it's unleashed upon Andromeda.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 29





	1. The Vision

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Mass Effect really made me think as a person, and in 2014 I had the bright idea to try and make my own space adventure. It wasn't everything I wanted but I still loved the characters, so...this is, I think, a better go for my babes :)

Rubble fell from the rocks she’d barricaded herself behind. Covering her head she cursed and fumbled with the seal on the box, gun forgotten and trying to hurry. Beyond the crumbling slate she could hear him lining up another shot, heart hammering in her chest. He was being crazy, he didn’t understand what he was doing. Okay, maybe she was making excuses for him but she couldn’t believe this, fingers shaking as they scrabbled with the seal.

He took his shot, plasma thundering through the air, more debris falling from above. Hunching over, protecting the box as much as she could, she screamed at him to cease.

“Stop! For fuck’s sake, you’re gonna kill us!”

There was a scoff from past her little safe spot. “Me? _You’re_ the one who took it. Give it back, Paz. It belongs to me.”

Absolutely not, and it _definitely_ didn’t belong to him, not to anyone. She didn’t even want to do this but she didn’t trust him, not when he was being like this. Working harder with her nails the seal finally budged. Good. Took long enough.

He could tell, too, firing off another shot, this time the laser shooting right above her head. She couldn’t help yelping but he was still louder.

“ _Paz_! Give it back!”

“Nope,” she whispered to herself, concentrating on the rusty metal box. It was pried open and she quickly snatched a small bag of ash from its cushioned center. “He’s fucking crazy. Don’t do it.”

She could hear him trying to climb the rocks, likely succeeding. Her hands felt so sluggish in a bid to open the bag, tilting it to her lips and trying not to think about it. She thought of it as another stupid dare, another dumb thing to keep boredom at bay. It tasted so foul though in her mouth and she covered her lips, forcing herself to swallow. Fuck, this was way too familiar.

His urgency grew; he knew what she’d done because suddenly he was yelling at her, hands pulling him over the barricade and stumbling to her. He was so pale, yet the anger…she could see it rippling under his skin. Choking on the powder she pushed away, scrambling to keep him away. He followed like lightning, crashing into her, both wrestling in the dirt, both desperate to do exactly what they came here for.

“Spit it out,” he growled, fingers sneaking to her face, trying to invade her mouth. She ripped about in his half-embrace, refusing to puke. It was already reacting, she could feel it heating up, absorbing, insides lurching anxiously. Good. He couldn’t have this shit.

“Paz!” He was practically screaming in her ear, desperation apparent. He knew…knew he was losing, attempting to do anything to stop it. “Paz, you can’t. You don’t—you don’t understand what this means to me.”

Oh but she did, that was why she just swallowed it.

It hurt, everything opening up at once but it was better to have it than him. The more it took hold the less she could fight back. Eventually he let up, rolling her to her back, wide eyes frantically looking her over. He’d had that look too many times around her but she couldn’t…couldn’t let him do this.

“No. No, how could you? Topaz…”

He sparkled a bit every time her eyelids fluttered, vision wavering. Behind his words she could hear something roaring, waking after a millennia of peace. It pulled at her, climbed her consciousness, intent on cracking through to the surface. Swallowing, her eyes rolled back and her neck uselessly fell one way, an ancient beast cleaving open her person and taking over with a howl. Eternity was suddenly at her fingertips, the vast expanse of the universe available at once and incredibly hungry for more.

At her side he pushed back, cursing as his strength, his life…

The monster he’d wanted to awaken, it was taking it. Taking everything.


	2. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick build-up to the present.

Tall, lithe, beautiful, and a bit scary. That was what Val first thought when their ship accepted two escaped hylerians in need of shelter. Sort of like elves in old tales. She’d never seen any in real life until now but there’d been a lot of them in vids recently, especially after that fleet was gutted last year. People were scared of them, rightfully so, but these two…

One was overwhelmed with labor pains on the floor in front of her, her lover worriedly cradling her in his long arms. The woman sobbed, legs spread wide, doing her best to deliver as quickly as she could. The baby was in no rush, unfortunately, making their panic that much more concerning. Any minute now her captain would make the rounds, collect and send them back to their master for a hefty bounty.

Val wasn’t sure the woman could even get up.

“Please,” the male begged, shaky attention focused on his lover. “Please, take it. We don’t care what you do with it but we can’t bring it back. They’ll kill it, or sell it—I don’t know, but it can’t be with us. You understand?”

Unable to not stare at the woman’s sweaty figure Val gave a hesitant nod. “Ye, of course, but—what good will it do to keep with me? Everyone’s gonna know what it is.”

“Say it’s yours,” the woman whimpered, head falling to the crook of the male’s shoulder. “Say you bought it, give it mods, I don’t care. Just—don’t give it to them. Don’t tell it what we are, keep it from this. Please. I won’t— _ugh_!”

“It’s okay,” her partner cooed, stroking matted brown hair. “I’ve got you. You’re doing fine.”

The way their lips moved Val knew they were speaking their own language. Gingerly kneeling between the woman’s legs she nodded again, unsure _how_ she’d do this but waiting to do it regardless. The hylerians had been so kind, so different from what she understood them to be while taking refuge on their ship. She’d barely known them a month but…she felt bad for them. All they wanted was to have a child, their master deciding against it after the recent attacks. She’d never wanted children, didn’t care for them, but these two had sucked her into their despair.

They’d never be able to outrun her captain, not with a child and the woman in such a state, but Val…she could, and she knew it, her loyalty to the crew having dissipated eons ago.

“It’s almost there,” she timidly coached, able to see a tiny strip of silvery beige hair. The poor woman… Val had never seen or experienced childbirth but she knew from this very moment how painful it was. It probably didn’t help they were doing this in the engine closet, hiding and trying to stall for time.

“Does it look alright?” the male asked, wide eyes tired but alert. Both waited while another contraction rocked through the woman, her cries becoming more prominent. Wincing as she examined the woman, Val confirmed it did.

“Ye. Head’s almost out, I…think.”

The male smiled for the first time in hours, squeezing his lover’s hand. “Almost there, almost done. You’re doing wonderful.”

The woman didn’t think so. Her face was purple, pushing with all her might to birth this thing. Dizzy, Val reminded herself to keep calm. She wasn’t the one doing this. Her job was to simply take the child.

And leave.

Pretty soon the woman’s efforts paid off, an ugly little head emerging. The second its shoulders came through Val did as she was told, reaching in and pulling on the tiny body. Both the woman and child screamed but it was necessary. A fully formed being tumbled into her lap, legs shakily stretching, lungs filling. Struggling to wrap it in a towel Val didn’t want to acknowledge she was crying, much like the mother.

“What is it?” the woman needed to know, gasping, exhausted. Giving the baby over to the father Val offered a quivering smile.

“A girl.”

While she worked on the cord and afterbirth the parents stared at their daughter, touching and kissing and trying to memorize every little wrinkle while the baby fussed, deeply offended by its uprooting. It was a sweet moment, one that ended too soon. Once both she and the baby were cleaned up a bit the male took the child, slowly handing it over to Val. Both parent’s flushed, delighted faces were replaced with fear.

“We can’t thank you enough,” he told Val, the woman sobbing at his side again. “Whatever happens…long as she’s not with us, she’s better off. Thank you.”

Taking her, Val was suddenly filled with worry. She didn’t know what to do with a child at all. She didn’t even think she’d ever care for one until a couple hours ago. She looked to them, arms tightening around the girl. “What do you—what’s her name?”

The woman cried harder. Torn, the man shook his head and slipped his arms around the woman. “Doesn’t matter. Name her as you will. She’s…she’s yours now.”

Heart thudding, Val glanced down at the squirming girl again. She’d never been so terrified of something in her life yet…

Yet she’d try her best, for their sake.

-

Too soon it became clear, even to herself, that Val wasn’t mother material. She tried her best, managed to keep the girl alive for the first few years of life, even gave her a name—Topaz, because her ridiculously bright eyes sparkled in that warm shade. She wasn’t good at teaching her much, detested the kid’s wild mood swings, and hated that she broke so much shit just because it drew attention. Even her new crew said she was off the charts compared to regular children. Had she foreseen that she might not have adopted her.

Sometimes she could be sweet but the older she grew the less that occurred.

Val thought the maternal instincts would come naturally but they never kicked in, so she let others on the ship deal with the girl as they wished—long as she wasn’t hurt or killed she didn’t care. She wished she were better at this but she wasn’t. Still, she kept the kid away from hylerians and the Federation alike. The girl was barely registered as a human, her status being a slave that Val…bought, though records were unfortunately ‘deleted’ in a mass purge of their former ship’s systems.

Keeping this kid basically guaranteed she’d never work a proper job in her life but…she wouldn’t give it up, not now.

-

She bought Topaz a playmate. It was the stupidest idea ever but Val went ahead and did it anyway, logic telling her Topaz would calm down if she had someone to wear her out.

It didn’t work. The boy didn’t trust nor enjoy the girl’s loud, intense presence. He hid from her, terrified she’d rip his arms off if she got her hands on him. Slowly but surely he learned how to defend himself, how to lock her out when she was being too forceful. Doing so almost became a challenge, one Val thought the girl enjoyed.

But…they did develop a kind of cohabitation with one another as the years progressed. One wasn’t without the other, and they made up for one another’s shortcomings. Where she was brazen he was thoughtful, where he grew frustrated she found ways forward.

His distrust made it difficult however. Val tried to be nice but they never saw eye to eye on anything. He obviously didn’t wish to be in his position, purposely dragged his feet. If she punished him Topaz became upset, likewise for the boy if she tried to make Topaz behave. Her other crew members said this was a phase but she wasn’t sure, especially not with the hylerian.

Topaz couldn’t be controlled. She found it hilarious when Val screamed at her to quit whatever nonsense she was up to. She kicked, bit, climbed to the top of the ship when she was feeling ornery. Ripped wiring out of the walls if she was bored, bugged her crew members when they were working and had painted lewd symbols on the side of the Osiris at least a handful of times. The only thing that stopped these possessed moments was if Val threatened to get rid of the boy, but that would almost makes things worse. For days afterward the girl would mope, sullenly mocking Val behind her back and telling her she didn’t need this stupid ship anyway.

But the boy was here and she cared about the boy.

Val put the boy to work developing lotus, their main business, and he was happy enough doing so. This was in part to his sudden importance in keeping the girl calm, Val encouraging her to use the substance. Yes, it made her useless but Val was at her wit’s end, unsure how else to tame her, and it wasn’t as if it’d kill her. It kept her normal, kept her from frenzied tantrums and escapes across the galaxy in stolen rigs, and that’s what they needed. They needed normalcy.

With the girl’s tempered behavior came more freedom, chances to earn Val’s trust and do things she’d only seen other crew members do. Very quickly she became Val’s go-to person, always willing to do whatever was necessary because…that was the thing about hylerians. They thought they could do anything they put their mind to.

She didn’t discourage it, pleased the girl had found something to latch onto that wasn’t utter destruction.

Val kept getting pings from hylerians, blocking them constantly, people questioning if she still had a hylerian on her ship. She never responded, pretended she didn’t get them. One though…he offered too many credits and spoke of Topaz as if he knew her. It was only concerning because Val knew the name, everyone did. He was the type of person the hylerians wanted to keep their daughter from. She told him to fuck off, and if she _ever_ caught him trying to talk, engage, or even so much as look at her there would be consequences.

She never heard from him after that, though she still worried. Constantly. Was it a bad idea sending Topaz out on her own? The girl wasn’t stupid, just uninhibited. Besides, she was halfway through her twenties. If she’d lasted this long, odds were no one cared any longer.

That was Val’s hope, at least. She liked to think she’d done the best she could possibly do given the circumstances.

But had she really? She thought about it often.


	3. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, here we meet the epitome of a Reckless Hylerian Female. TW: random hookup sex.

-Tibur Sigma, Lucky’s Fuel and Lounge Depot-  
  


There weren’t a lot of stops along the route in this quadrant, a shame given how long this stretch of the region was, but it made Lucky’s fuel depot a hotspot. Like every other day the depot, anchored to an orbiting asteroid, was chock full of all kinds of craft, from large cargo ships to single-man shuttles. Like the tarmac, the attached tavern was just as busy. Old music piped over the dirty booths and counters, travelers from all over taking advantage of the only place to properly land until the next system.

A board over the bar lit up, indicating a new arrival on the tarmac outside. Patrons chatted with one another while a few swiveled to watch the pressurized door (there wasn't a lot of entertainment this way), the whole tavern swathed in dim red lights until the hangar outside was secured. It was the third arrival in the last hour, probably not the last for the night, either.

Several minutes later the door finally slid open. A short hylerian woman looking only slightly worse for wear ambled in, her boots caked with dried mud, visible skin covered in cuts and bruises. Several patrons whistled while she pushed up goggles, forcing both a blush and glower on her sharp-boned face. Stomping to the bar she ignored their laughter, taking a seat between a trucker who immediately clapped her on the back and a guy nursing something that smelled strong.

Having never seen him before she focused on the more familiar trucker and hailed the bartender over to order a shot of whiskey and some water. Both were delivered almost immediately, as if they already knew what she wanted—which, they probably did. This was one of the few places she frequented quite a bit.

“Looks like you got in a fight with something thorny,” the trucker observed, laughing faintly and taking a puff on his vapor. After a quick drink of water she nodded, hunching over, cheek pressed on the bar in exhaustion. One hand nimbly fumbled with her ponytail until it came loose, silvery beige hair falling across her shoulders.

“Man, you don’t know the half of it. It’s been one hell of a week. I’ve been delivering and doing pick-ups all over the quadrant and—and you know Uron? That place is overgrown. Nobody should live there.”

“Which is why they live there,” came his joke, laugh loud and raucous. “Come on, kid. You’re in the wrong business talking like that.”

“You’re in the wrong business,” she mocked in a low tone, moaning a beat later, forehead now on the countertop. “It’s just been rough, alright? Too many close calls and not enough pay.”

Leaning closer the trucker tapped her skull, making her flinch in annoyance. “So…?”

“So what?” she retorted, head turning, huffing. Least she couldn’t see anything now.

“So what’s keeping you with Val?” he asked, smile big. “Tell her you want a bigger cut. If it ain’t worth it, it ain’t worth it. There’s always a place with my crew if you want some real credits.”

This was a conversation they’d had before, one she wasn’t drunk enough to continue. Groaning, she turned her head the other way, tired eyes catching her other neighbor’s curious stare before he politely looked away. Grinning, she studied him a moment longer behind her hair before drawing herself up and downing her whiskey.

“See, the thing is,” she told the trucker, “we’re kind of friends. I can’t just… _demand_ more. For what? I barely do anything.”

His laughter filled the tavern, just like the snorts coming from those around him. Her head ducked, embarrassed, and he sympathetically clapped her on the back once more.

“Don’t worry about it, kid—I’m just messing with you. Come meet me by my rig before you head out. I’ll uh, lighten your load.”

Sensing his seriousness they mumbled together for a moment and then he stood, heading out the door to his own ship. Finishing her whiskey she looked ahead, in her own thoughts until her other neighbor cleared his throat. Smiling to herself she glanced over, unsurprised to see him looking at her again.

“You ah, sound like a regular,” he drawled, voice different from the bar’s usual crowd…somehow more familiar to her ears. Brow raising, her full attention suddenly rested on his surprisingly nice features. “You come here often?”

“More than you,” she teased, cheeks still stained with color. “Never seen you before.”

A lopsided grin pulled over his face. He seemed familiar but she knew she’d never seen him before. He _was_ good looking. She tended to confuse that with familiar. “Got me. Don’t come out this way if I can help it.”

She snickered; he was alright. Taking another drink of water she pushed her unkempt hair over one shoulder. “Careful. Some of these guys like this dumpster fire.”

When his smile grew so did hers and she accepted his suddenly outstretched hand, their shake firm.

“Name’s Coram. You fly?”

“I do. I work with Val—”

“Osiris’s Val?” he interrupted, to which her grin became coy. So her crew’s reputation preceded her.

“Ye, that one. I fly for her. What do you do, Coram?”

His shrug was modest, humble. “Cargo shipping. You know, the usual, Val’s pilot.”

Cheeks flushing a tad more she stuck her tongue out. “Right, sorry. I’m Paz. Nice to meet a fellow cargo carrier.” Giggling, she was sure his business was a front as well. Taking another sip she tried not to notice his keen stare.

He leaned forward, elbows on the counter. He had really nice arms, she noticed. “Paz wouldn’t happen to be short for anything, would it?”

“Is Coram short for something?” she lobbed back, in a playful mood now. Twisting to face him however she nodded, putting on a false bravado. “You’d be correct, but let’s stick to Paz.”

Letting out a soft chuckle, his head lowered. He looked her over more meticulously and she did the same, wondering how he felt about complete strangers. Finally he sighed, hands passing his bottle back and forth between palms.

“Must’ve been one hell of a delivery if you’re all banged up like that.”

He seriously didn’t know the half of it. Glittering eyes wide with warning she launched into the battle that was landing on an overgrown planet full of carnivorous, thorny plants that really enjoyed prey like her. This of course was her secondary mission, collecting several crates of rudimentary lotus from a grower on the planet’s northern tip.

Turns out he was there recently for the same sort of trip. They compared notes, heads bent together for quite some time with several more shots split between them. It was nice to have someone to compare to and if Paz was honest she did find him super attractive, mods and all. They didn’t really get into those however, more interested in each other’s typical piloting styles and how one another avoided detection, which eventually devolved into what one another did in their spare time.

Their conversation steered to more and more intimate things as the evening wore on, Paz finding she very much enjoyed his company. He was from Centurion Beta, a ritzier quadrant. She always liked boys from that region and he was no exception. He of course already knew what she was, hylerian features a pretty easy giveaway, and she always enjoyed the banal compliments people made about her background. All he had to do was flatter her and she essentially invited him back to her ship the second he dropped a hint about becoming better acquainted.

What? She’d been cooped up for a couple weeks now without anyone to mess around with—had someone else asked she probably would’ve gone with them. Since she barely knew him at least she was being ‘safe’ while leaving the tavern and calling goodbyes to those she did know, crossing the tarmac outside the bar and guiding him to her single person cruiser parked near the edge of the lot. With both of them more than a bit buzzed it took some time lowering her ship’s ladder but eventually they figured it out, climbing into the cramped quarters and giggling like teenagers.

The second he shut the hatch Coram and Paz were on each other like animals, the idea of going slow never occurring to either one. Hoisting her in his arms he breathlessly demanded directions to her bed and she pointed the way, legs wrapped around his waist and busy running her tongue up his neck. He’d do the same but both were highly aware she’d just come from her delivery—this was going to be quick and dirty and he dropped her on the small bed with those exact words, making her grin like an idiot.

“You are goddamn cute, you know that?” he observed, on his knees between hers and working off his belt once her boots were flung aside.

“I try my best,” she giddily answered, wriggling out of her pants and offering a bright smile. “Not so bad yourself. You work out or is it all that lifting?”

“Oh, you know,” he humbly replied, jeans unbuttoned, cock springing free, “a bit of both. Not much else to do on long flights.”

“Besides bang random girls at fuel depots,” she confirmed and when he offered a deviant grin and nod she raised her arms, pulling him down for a sloppy kiss. He easily complied, elbows on either side of her, fingers winding through her loose hair.

For a moment she was trapped beneath him, relishing the feel of a large, solid body keeping her warm. Shifting her hips she spread her legs wider, reaching between them for his cock, stroking it up to its full potential. By now she was already wet. Coaxing him into her wasn’t difficult.

Both moaned once he was buried deep, hips meeting a moment before he slowly pulled back, taking his time and starting with slow, luxurious thrusts. Head falling back into the sheets Paz’s eyes rolled. She adored how perfect he felt within her. Losing themselves in one another the station outside was quickly forgotten, her ship soon becoming the epicenter of her cries and his eager grunts.

It didn’t take long for either one to come, Coram rolling off her once he was finished, chest heaving and a healthy red glow dusted across his sweaty face. Sure she looked the same Paz stretched out, resting an arm on her forehead and closing her eyes, soaking up the last few seconds of bliss. With their needs met both were incredibly quiet, random noises from outside on the tarmac suddenly so audible.

“Sure you don’t come out here often?” she finally panted, gaze flitting to his relaxed figure. Laughing, he gently shook his head, taking a deep breath next.

“Nah, but I’m starting to think I should. That was pretty—pretty good.”

“ _Pretty_?” She nudged him with an elbow and he continued laughing, much more softly.

“Well, you know, for the situation. Give me some more time and a proper bed and this’d be a vastly different experience—but, for what it’s worth, this was pretty damn good.”

Giggling, Paz left it at that. “I’ve got a shower in back. Want to wash up?”

Sighing again he made no attempt to move, electing to take it easy. “Should, but I gotta get going. I was supposed to be on my way about an hour ago.” Slyly looking to her he added, “Glad I stuck around.”

She flashed her teeth right back, slowly pushing herself to her elbows. “Me, too. Always good to meet new people, especially out here.”

“If I’m ever out this way again maybe we could…?” he suggested, pleased when she shot him a knowing look.

“Or if I’m in Centurion Beta—unless you can’t be seen with a hylerian.”

“I can,” he insisted, mockingly offended. Rising and scooting to the edge of the bed he tucked himself back up, taking his time. “You’ve very little faith in someone you just met.”

Beaming proudly, Paz wasn’t ashamed of the accusation. Sliding off the bed she stretched both arms over her head, feeling much better than earlier. “Wouldn’t be alive if I wasn’t some kind of cautious, I guess, uh…”

“It’s Coram,” he reminded her, finished buttoning up. “And it’s a good thing to be cautious, especially out here. You never know who’s gonna turn on you.”

Carefully escorting him from her tiny room she snorted, doubting that. No one would cross her, not as long as they knew she worked for Val. “ _You_ wouldn’t though, right?”

They joked all the way to the hatch. Gripping the handles he twisted to fawn over her once more, face far more relaxed than earlier.

“Had a good time. So…how should I get a hold of you, Paz Which Is Short For Something But You Don’t Want To Tell Me?”

Tapping his chest with a finger she offered an intrigued look, pleased with his banter. “I like you. You got a good sense of humor. Just look up Val’s crew.”

“Uh, a little hard to do when I don’t even know how to get a hold of her,” he objected, frowning and perching on the hatch’s edge a moment. “Besides, you really want a call like that going over the whole ship? ‘Hey baby, remember me? Wanna smash?’ Nah, don’t think you want that.”

Busting up she figured that probably wouldn’t be appreciated. Helping him unlock the lower door a blast of cool air filled the main cabin, both shivering before she relented. “Fine, fine. Here, open up your comm. I’ll send it to you.”

Giving an exasperated sigh he did as asked, slowly beginning the short descent to the ground. “You’re a little paranoid, you know that?”

“You’re the one who asked for it,” she retorted, still smiling. “There. Hit me up for anything other than a booty call and I’ll block you.”

Groaning, he slid down the ladder, winking as his figure grew smaller and smaller. “I’m not just a piece of meat, you know. I have hopes and dreams and—.” Pausing near the last run his head cocked, a delighted look crossing his face. His comm must’ve received her info. Brow softening he whistled appreciatively, taking her in again like it was the first time he’d really seen her. “Topaz Omorin, one of the last hylerians.”

“That’s me,” she hollered from inside her ship, waving goodbye and shutting the hatch before he could get any further. That was all he needed to know.

Pleased she’d gotten something she’d long been wanting she hurried to the cockpit, happily watching Coram swagger back to the tavern. Plopping in her chair she gave herself a high five, paling and jumping back to her feet a second later and making a beeline for the washroom. Embarrassed as she was her hips swung confidently on the way—she still had that allure Centurion boys liked.


	4. Ch 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Topaz returns to the Osiris with every intention of heading to town, but she gets a little sidelined instead.

-Three weeks later, Daysturis Shipping Docks, M32-

“I don’t care.”

“But this could increase our profit ten-fold, all we’d have to do—”

“We’re not pulling this, we already have a loyal base.”

“But Val—”

Bright green eyes flickered up from her work table, the woman in question sneering at the well-built man near pulling his hair out over this request. She held one hand up, colorful fingers indicating he shut up. “No. You want to pull that kind of shit I’ll sell you to another crew. I work with lotus, nothing else. I get it; I understand it’s customers. You want to start attracting other customers then you can do that on your own time, on your _own_ ship.”

Frustrated, he took a step back and made himself breathe. “Okay. Fine. You’re right.”

“Sam,” Val called before he stalked out of their workshop. Huffing, he paused near the door and twisted to level her with a neutral look, blue-green eyes still somehow full of disdain. She offered the same back. “I appreciate the idea but I know what we can handle. Are you sick of lotus? Is that what this is about?”

Grunting, his gaze lowered to the grated floor, shoulders following. “I just…there’s so much potential in huasca. We could be the first ones distributing it in this quadrant. It’d—”

“It’d kill our clientele,” she retorted, voice soft and sympathetic. “I’m sorry, Sam.”

Feeling dismissed he swiveled on a heel, exiting just as the door slid open from the opposite end of the hall. Eyes lighting up his back straightened, a smile already masking the dour mood Val had put him in.

“Sam!” Paz hollered in a trill, easily trotting down the hall and launching herself at him. Luckily he caught her, wrapping her in a bear hug and twirling her around. Behind them Val gagged but didn’t stop them.

“You—gods, you reek,” he worriedly observed, though that didn’t prevent him from placing several kisses on her temple. “You know how late you are?”

Feet settling back down on the floor Paz emerged from his embrace, shrugging sheepishly. “Well, there was traffic in Loma Preta.” Her grin widened as she ducked to look past him, waving at Val as well. “But I’ve got all sorts of product in my rig. Mandrelle’s unloading it downstairs right now.”

“You stay out of trouble?” Val asked, busying herself with new tasks on her list. Paz’s smile somehow grew more brilliant and she nodded, then circled back to Sam’s questioning face. All too quickly her hands were running up his sleeves, bashfully ignoring his knowing look.

“Yes. Yes! Really, I swear.”

“So Tibur Sig’s police had Val wire credits to bail you out because…?” He questioned, clearly enjoying teasing her. She wriggled in his arms, doing her best to feign innocence. There had been an incident at a tavern near the edge of the system she’d been delivering and picking up shipments from but she didn’t think that was her problem, necessarily. The cops pegged her simply because she was an easy target, _obviously_.

“That was like a month ago and besides,” she huffed, “that wasn’t my fault. I told them I was good at pool and they didn’t like that I won.”

“Would we have ever seen those credits?” came Val’s low voice and again Paz shrugged, feigning ignorance.

“Probably. I mean—guys, there was _traffic_ in Loma Preta, I got really bored, okay?”

Kissing her flat nose Sam squeezed her tight. Her lithe body practically disappeared in his embrace. “Glad to have you back and in one piece. Val, I’ll give her back in a couple hours.”

“Oh no,” their captain called, rising from her bench and heading for the door. “You bring her back in a couple hours and she’ll be melting into my couch, eyes all glazed and giggling at nonsense.” Bright orange nails beckoned Paz inside her shop, ignoring both their groans of disappointment. “Business first, love, then play.”

Grudgingly letting her go Sam kissed Paz several more times before leaving her in Val’s care, promising he’d have something ready for her once they were done. Paz watched him go, wide eyes admiring his broad shoulders before he disappeared down the hall. With him gone however she was much less distracted and she turned to Val, pleased to have (mostly) good things to report.

“Fifty tons of lotus poppies,” she started, heading into the workshop before Val, the door sliding shut behind them. This was definitely a private conversation. “Like I said, Mandrelle’s storing them right now. It should be enough to last several months. Let’s see, the guy in Uron paid eight mil upfront for what I dropped off there, and on Hiduron I picked up another twenty mil from several clients. I love Fiala—she’s amazing. Really pretty, too.”

“She take you to bed?” Val nosily inquired with a wry smirk, sitting back down at her bench, hands steepled together. Nodding, Paz shrugged helplessly. The woman they spoke of had been too kind to her, giving her quite the time at her secluded house hidden in the thick, acidic forests of Hiduron. It wasn’t a house by any means, more like what she imagined a palace should look like.

“She was _very_ nice.” She left it at that, flopping onto the bench opposite Val’s messy desk. They all knew she couldn’t help herself when it came to pleasure. “Anyway, everything should be in your name by now. I had a good trip. Tibur Sigma’s pretty easy going.”

“Glad you enjoyed it,” Val replied, eyes looking Paz over. “You’ll be headed back soon. I want Fiala’s head.”

“What?” The exclamation was out of Paz’s mouth before she could stop herself. Slumping in her seat she nervously fidgeted. “But—why? She paid over—”

“Her credits are useless,” her Captain explained, sighing in contempt. “They made it to my name, all right. Problem is, they were scrubbed a day later.”

And with Paz being so far out in another system…no one had been able to contact her. Paling even more she groaned, head rolling back. “Fuck. No wonder she was so nice. Do I have to?”

“I thought about sending Mandrelle,” Val carefully answered, lips pouting. “But…you know how he gets. People are afraid of him before he even speaks. No, I’d like you to do it. I hope you wiped out her booze while you spent the night. Hopefully we got something out of sending you there.”

That Paz had been at least able to do, and with relish. The hostess kept offering alcohol and it’d be rude to decline so she took whatever was available. She still had a few bottles of Venemian brandy in her rig, actually. Still…returning to kill Fiala… “I mean, I’ll do it, I guess, if I have to.”

Val’s features perked up and she smiled encouragingly, reaching across the table to offer a hand. Paz took it, calming down a bit. “Cheer up, dear. If it was a couple credits short it’d be one thing but this? Fiala knew what she was doing. Fear not, her estate will _more_ than make up for it.”

Thinking about it Paz’s ears flattened. “Ugh, she owned a lot of security on her estate. Maybe Mandrelle should come along just in case.”

“You’ll do fine,” Val insisted, eyes crinkling. “You have your senses and besides, who can resist those puppy dog eyes? Paz, this’ll be easy.”

Sighing, Paz agreed and let her legs stretch out in front of her. “When do I head back?”

Luckily for her Val already had a plan. “We’ll send you out next shipment with a false load for her. Upon delivery you’ll take her down, scoot back to the cockpit, and be on your way.”

She made it sound so easy. Still, it wasn’t like Paz had a better idea. Her captain went on for a couple more minutes about the plan before delving into other issues, both of them tallying up her last run’s commodities, finds and spendings, and then catching each other up on ship gossip as well as the political climate in Tibur Sigma. They finished up fairly quickly and once dismissed Paz headed back out and down the hall, climbing the ladder to the lower decks and navigating to Sam’s lab. She said hello to several crew mates on the way there, sliding through his door before he even had a chance to look up between several large extraction machines.

Heavy music rotated through the cabin, covering up the steaming hisses from around him. Grinning at his focused frame Paz sidled up, taking a peek at what he was mixing. It looked like a good batch, full of healthy purple buds and glittering pollen. This was why so many people preferred lotus from Val, not other distributers. Whatever Sam did in his shop he was able to retain a good amount of potency in the final product.

And at the price they were selling this stuff it was a wonder anyone could compete. Not that Paz cared; it gave her something to do. As long as she did her job Val would deal with any negative consequences. That was how their relationship worked. Val took care of her, and in return she did what Val asked.

“Glad to have you back,” Sam remarked, free arm snaking around her waist and planting another kiss on her cheek. Giggling, Paz leaned into him. She picked up a quart container of hazy ruby crystals, giving it the softest of shakes to loosen it up.

“It’ll be nice to have a couple days out of the cockpit,” she gingerly answered, studying the matter. It looked so ugly in this state, but once Sam mixed it with a few extenders it’d be more appealing to both the eye and the stomach…and wallet. “You want to head into town once I get a shower? I want to…want to do something. Anything.”

His irked expression made her uncomfortable. “Can’t go anywhere until this batch’s stabilized. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Fine,” she sighed, brow lowering. She’d barely been back on the Osiris for an hour and already she was bored, restless and itching to entertain herself. It wasn’t that big of a deal but she liked making a scene; she could get away with it around him.

His irritability retired, replaced with a doting smile. “Poor girl. All this free time and nothing to do. Don’t worry; I told you I’ve got you covered.”

Big eyes rising to his, Paz’s lips pursed. “I mean, I was just thinking it’d be nice to go out. We never get a chance…”

“We’ll go once this batch’s cured,” he insisted, voice soft and soothing, lips hovering over hers until she gave him another kiss. “Promise.”

He said that last time she’d returned from a long trip but Paz didn’t dare bring it up, forcing a small smile and letting his tongue explore hers. It didn’t take more than a few seconds before he uttered a laugh, breaking away and focusing on the lotus again.

“You need a shower _bad_. What’d Val have you doing this time?”

Lurching away from the counter Paz meandered through the lab until she found the couch they kept in there, flopping onto it and giving him the short version of her travels. She didn’t bring up needing to return and kill Fiala; that’d come up in their next crew meeting anyway. In turn he gave her a slightly different account of what’d been happening on the Osiris since her departure, telling her all about their last trip to Centurion Beta and making her jealous with tales about the beautiful seaside villas of Madalin. She’d been, of course, but not as a guest and certainly not for a long time. She’d never even left the shipping docks.

Every time the Osiris docked somewhere nice it always felt like she was away on some mission or another, or there was always a reason she couldn’t leave the ship. It sucked.

Finished with one part of the stabilization process Sam ducked beneath his counter a moment, eventually heading over with a small glass of shiny pink crystals in one hand and a fizzy drink in the other. Both were extended to her and she sat up, downing the lotus first then a couple swallows of…what was it? She couldn’t tell, but it was fruity.

“What is this?” she asked with a grimace, holding up the drink and ignoring his sympathetic smile. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t know what these things were.

“Raspberry. Goes nicely with lotus, ye?”

It did. Relaxing on the couch Paz knocked knees with him, waiting for it to kick in. They’d never go to town now. She became too shy on this shit, but it would be nice to take it easy for a while. There wasn’t much else to do on the ship anyway; she didn’t have the same kind of skills as the others.

Pulling her to him Sam leaned back, keeping her to his chest. She took in a deep breath, always intoxicated by his smell, one hand reaching up to comb through his light brown hair. Her limbs were turning to jelly already, muscles melting and relieving any tension she’d been carrying.

“I want to go to Centurion Beta next time,” she murmured into his lab coat as her hand fell back to his side, eyelids fluttering shut. “It’s so pretty there, and they have those shows, and that theater. And concerts…and beaches. They have everything.”

An entertained rumble rose from Sam’s chest, one hand stroking Paz’s hair. “One day. Who knows? Maybe Val will let you go early. How you feel?”

“Good,” she promptly answered, voice small all of the sudden, arms wrapping tight around his torso. “Mm…always good.”

“Good,” he sighed, fingers pausing on her skull, thumb caressing her ear. “Mm, I’m glad you’re back. She’s been on my nerves all month.”

He dove into the ever present issues he had with Val and Paz simply listened, too relaxed to do anything else. That was the thing about lotus; everything felt wonderful and nothing was bad. Sure, she’d built up a tolerance for it over the years but it always resulted in the same state and she adored it, even if it wasn’t exactly what she wanted at the moment. Sam went on and on and she nodded along but that was about it. The two didn’t get along but Sam knew his boundaries at least. He still enjoyed bitching about their captain and when she was on lotus she made a perfect audience to listen to his problems. Personally, she liked him better when they were in bed but…

Well, at least she was back on the Osiris, back with her crew, a rosy haze clouding her thoughts and reminding her she had a pretty good gig going. It could be worse.

So much worse.


	5. Ch 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Osiris crew makes a deal with a new buyer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Paz's totally exuding Miles Morales vibes right here*

-Daysturis Shipping Docks, M32-

Dipping a mitt into soapy water Paz rose and clapped the cloth across the side of the Osiris, its dingy black exterior a stark contrast to the rest of the silvery ships in their row. Once she was done with this section of it’s hull it might not look so dingy but…well, that was a ways away. Humming to the music on her comm she forged ahead, scrubbing at the Osiris’s side and pretending it didn’t bother her no one else was out here. Their pilot generally enjoyed shooting the breeze with her but they’d gotten into it last time she was here and apparently Paz hadn’t been forgiven.

Thus, it was just her this evening.

She’d been back with the crew over a week now, essentially moping on her own or doing whatever Val relegated to her. Every now and then someone would board the ship looking to buy large quantities of lotus and she’d negotiate that, Val always in communication via comm, but that was the only exciting thing happening around here. Even Sam wasn’t as entertaining, probably because he was under pressure to finish his latest batch of lotus. Paz was sort of beginning to regret starting anything with him. It wasn’t very fun anymore, not like in the beginning.

Still, she’d rather have him than nothing. He was her friend first and foremost, always.

Reaching up overhead she swiped over the Osiris’ short logo, head bopping along to her music and wondering if Val would let her go into Daysturis on her own tonight. Traversing the galaxy was one thing, whereas walking around colony towns was what made her captain nervous. She didn’t see the difference. If anything happened, and she doubted it ever would (people didn’t pay attention to her until she asked for it), all Val had to do was track her down and that was easy as could be.

“Hey.”

That wasn’t familiar. Pausing in her work Paz looked down from the precarious perch, eyeballing a tall, redheaded guy waving at her from the tarmac. Music paused, she dropped the cloth and bucket, wiping her hands on a towel tucked in one pocket.

“What’s up?”

The man smiled that stupid smile users got, his own hands jamming into comfortable pant pockets. It took her a moment to recognize he had to have come from town, not from anywhere on dock. He was too casual to work out here.

“I ah, heard this is a good place to see the glo-set.”

Grinning back Paz nodded, climbing down from her scaffolding. “You heard right. Hang on.”

Swaggering on the tarmac she looked him over hard, determining him to be some kind of rich kid from the colony. That was fine. They didn’t discriminate.

“What’re you looking for?” she inquired in a low voice, gaze scanning the ships surrounding them. Authorities were easy to spot; he didn’t feel like one, and she didn’t sense anyone in the nearby vicinity besides those back inside the Osiris.

Looking her over just as intently his smile grew relaxed. “Looking to spend about eighty thousand. You got that much?”

Of course they had that much. Motioning for him to follow Paz turned to the ship’s docking platform. “Ever met Val before?”

Either he hadn’t or he was a good liar, whistling appreciatively on the short walk. “Nah. Heard of her. Heard she’s got a great—view.”

Snorting, Paz guided him on board. They navigated the Osiris’s cramped walkways while she pinged Val on the way to the main thoroughfare. Always happy to take a few more credits but rightfully skeptical of the guy Val had her do some digging and that’s exactly what Paz did, asking him to sit down at their dining table (which naturally also served as their negotiation table).

“Val will be here in a second,” she told him, gliding to the fridge and grabbing a few fizzy drinks. Returning to him she handed one over, leaning against the table at his side. “I’m Paz.”

“Reeser,” their patron grunted, setting aside his drink. Probably a smart move; who knew how many people had been abducted drinking strange things?

“You live in the colony?” she wondered, gently probing for whatever information she could get. When he nodded she relayed that back to Val. “Cool. We don’t get out this way much. You ah…you having a party?”

There were dealers they sold to and actual users. Reeser’s obnoxious laugh indicated he was the former, ruining her previous assumption. Paz did some calculating before he finished shaking his head, figuring he must either be new at this or looking to sample other distributors’ wares. Either way, she wasn’t sure Val would make any kind of deal with him.

They chatted a bit longer until the captain herself finally moseyed in, Mandrelle at her side. Reeser’s demeanor immediately changed, as if he’d suddenly realized this could be a setup. Most people’s thoughts went that route once they spotted Val’s formidable bodyguard. Paz cleared her throat, bringing a calm to the table.

“Reeser, this is Val—Val, Reeser. He heard we had a good view and has eighty thousand to burn.”

“You’re not very subtle,” Reeser grumbled through gritted teeth, nervously beginning to rise to shake her hand. At Val’s side however Mandrelle shook his head, lip curling as he nodded at Reeser to stay put. Plunking back down he looked from Val to Paz. “I take it this is the part where someone shanks and robs me?”

Scoffing, Val drew closer with a soft grin. “Not yet, not unless you’re into that kind of thing. So, eighty thousand. You have your own ship, business—what?”

“Business,” he answered, idly scratching at his neck. Paz noticed a large tattoo smothering his shoulder, his shirt covering up the majority of it. She smiled to herself and took a drink: it’d be nice to get a better look at that. “Used to be a pilot with the Royal Nav but a bum leg ruined that and now…here I am.”

“Long way from the Nav,” Mandrelle observed, large muscles twitching under his shirt as he shifted from one foot to the other. It was a good thing Reeser couldn’t see Paz’s face because she found this bit entertaining. “What’s it matter to us?”

Almost offended he’d be questioned Reeser’s shoulders squared and he straightened, frowning. “I dunno, sometimes people enjoy helping a veteran out. Guess you don’t. Regardless, can I get the view or not? I’ve got people waiting back in town for this shit and to be honest I can look elsewhere if you’re not comfortable.”

The galley filled with both Val and Paz’s laughter, Mandrelle the only one able to keep a straight face. Val waved a hand at her sidekick. “Get him several kilos. That should suffice, ye?”

Once Mandrelle lumbered down the hall Reeser squinted at Val, nerves still obvious. “You think I’m a cop, is that it?”

“You?” Eyes scanning him Val shook her head, a hip resting against the door. “Not likely. Paz, you think he’s a cop?”

This was sort of a game. Teeth flashing, Paz’s eyes roved over Reeser’s anxious body. “Nah. Cute, but not a cop.”

“This is really uncomfortable,” he informed them, legs crossing in an effort to refrain from judgment. “I do not enjoy being objectified.”

Both women laughed again, Paz finding the words almost familiar. She took a few more sips and listened to Val and Reeser go back and forth over ‘view’ prices in this economy. None of it interested her but washing the Osiris was not interesting, either. Eventually Mandrelle returned with a decent sized bag, the requested couple kilos wrapped tight inside. He handed it over to Val who raised it up, forcing Reeser to come get it. He grudgingly did so, and in between their comms linked together, their new client transferring a good chunk of credits to Val.

The second it was complete Val dropped it into his hands, face neutrally pleasant. “There you are, sir. Anything else we can help you with or are you looking to join the crew?”

“You need a new pilot?” he wondered, stalling momentarily. Val didn’t say anything else, leading him to believe he was being teased. “Tch, I’ll be on my way. Thanks, Val. I’ll keep you in mind next time I need a new crop.”

“Paz, be a dear and escort Mr. Reeser back to the tarmac,” Val instructed, Paz already moving from her post and heading for the hallway. Reeser’s footsteps echoed behind her and she glanced back before they reached the exit ramp, curious about him.

“You know there are all sorts of people you could get a great view from around here, ye?”

Eyes taking in the baffling amount of tech lining the hall Reeser shrugged. “Ye, but not at this price. I’ve heard of your crew. Purest product at the lowest price. How do you do it? Or is that a trade secret?”

“No clue,” Paz replied with a faint laugh, pushing open the hatch and guiding him back out into Daysturis’s artificial light. It was true; she’d watched Sam make hundreds of batches but there were too many steps for her to pay attention to. “I just deliver.”

“That it?”

Going quiet, Paz considered, carefully clamoring down to the ground. The tarmac was still deserted, most people either out on the town or tuning up their ship at this hour. Was that all she did? Officially, yes. Otherwise, well…she did a lot of things.

Seeing she wasn’t going to answer Reeser sighed and hefted his new bag. “Right. Well, Paz, it was nice to meet you. I’ll likely never seek out your crew again but…” Coming to her side he knocked hips with her, something very intimate given they didn’t know one another. Unsettled, she stepped back, a brow raised until she noticed his teasing face.

“Thanks for the hospitality,” he finished, striding away in the direction of town. Standing on the tarmac Paz watched him go, thoughtful for a moment. He was nice. Weird, but nice. When she couldn’t see him any longer between several large shipping containers she turned back to the Osiris, neck craning as she searched for where she’d last touched it.

Ugh, from here she still had half the ship to go. It was going to be a long night.


	6. Ch 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Osiris is visited by...mm, not the most friendly of crews.

“Sam? Sam. _Sam_!”

Twisting awkwardly Sam ignored the noise, arms constricting around his pillow. Said pillow squeaked in discomfort, forcing him awake, blinking and glancing around his dark cabin. Cuddled up next to him Paz nuzzled closer, worry palpable. Even half asleep he knew she didn’t worry often.

“Hm? What?”

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

A soft thump echoed from the pipes beyond the ceiling panels. Pointing upwards, Paz’s wide eyes were glued to him. “That.”

Both went quiet for several moments but there wasn’t another noise. Pulling her between his legs, their chests pressed to one another, he encouraged her head against his shoulder.

“Probably Lon. You know she’s a night owl.”

That was true but usually Lonyn, their pilot, was a bit louder in her nighttime escapades, especially if she’d been out on the town and Paz was pretty sure she’d done that earlier on. Still, she took Sam’s word for it and settled down, keeping her worry to herself. To his credit he felt it in her tension, one hand slowly smoothing up her bare back and the other clutching her tight.

“What’s wrong? You aren’t scared of anything.”

As much as she liked believing that Paz wasn’t sure. She just…she’d woken up several times already over weird dreams and now there were weird noises permeating his cabin. She knew he was right; if anything was wrong they’d know it, but her senses felt paranoid.

This wasn’t going to go away quietly. Propping himself up on one elbow he brushed her hair back, fingers tracing down her shoulder. “I know what you need.”

Smiling prettily she pretended like she had no idea what he was talking about, burying herself in his sheets while he got up. The cabin filled with him rooting through his desk, returning with a little tin. The mattress sank next to her, his closed palm suddenly against hers. Paz took several little crystals. They were swallowed near immediately, both their soft snickering following soon after.

“No more worries, ye?” he bargained. Falling back to bed Paz agreed wholeheartedly. In just a little bit she’d feel much different. Once he’d settled back down they returned to their previous arrangement, accompanied by a few more kisses before Sam grew still, sleep imminent. She listened to his breath, mind wandering, muscles relaxing. Soon she was floating, body lifted someplace higher, a pleasant buzz flooding over her. In seconds she drifted asleep.

Too soon she was jostled awake, body too lethargic to do more than protest at Sam’s sudden movement. Red lights passed over her face though they didn’t really register. She lay there, confused but mostly upset she’d been disturbed. Had Sam not just tried wooing her back to sleep? What the fuck was this?

The lights were accompanied with loud shouts. Everything grimly clicked when the overhead light flickered on. Blinded, she sluggishly blinked several times. The tall figures blocking his door never dissipated no matter how much she tried to make them go away.

They were dressed in black, a bad sign already. Ballistic armor covered their torsos and cheap masks of a vid star hid their faces. Large plasma rifles waved in the air, accompanying their shouting. She had to stare at them for a good moment before realizing Sam was still in the room, quivering as another masked figure held a rifle to his back while he pulled on pants.

They were all somehow taller, larger than him.

She lay still, ears pounding, unsure what to do. Screaming and shoving them out seemed like a good idea but her body was still so heavy and artificially relaxed. Her mind was a panicked hell, sure, but everything else wouldn’t react properly.

Her comm pinged like crazy in her ear, distracting especially when the figure shouting at Sam fixed his attention on her. His rifle motioned she do something. Val. Val was pinging her, asking if she was alright. The idea of ‘alright’ seemed funny. Paz couldn’t help a soft giggle which clearly wasn’t the right thing to do. Now Sam was left alone, his attacker hovering over the bed, rifle pointed at her. Paz stared at the barrel, then up at him. It had to be a ‘he’, their voice low and…familiar. Where…no, that couldn’t be right.

“Up,” he ordered, gun nudging her shoulder. Too strung out to be scared she contemplated the order, Val’s own order to keep calm mingling unhelpfully. It took a great deal of effort to sit up but she managed, sheets falling to her waist. Several snorts of contempt filled the cabin though they didn’t bother her. Her entire team had likely seen her naked at least a dozen times. The guy in front of her huffed, motioning back to Sam.

“Clothes. Now.”

His words were clear but she was too slow, struggling to make her muscles move and untangle sheets from her hips. It was a miracle he even put up with it for as long as he did, a gloved hand finally grabbing her weakened bicep and pulling her out of the cocoon to her feet. Even then she near collapsed, groaning as he hoisted her against one hip, fingers digging into flesh. Harsh words hit her ears, taking a moment to really make sense.

“—wrong with her?”

“Her?” That was Sam. Hair fell in her face as she looked up to his hunched back. “Nothing. She’s—”

“ _The fuck is wrong with her_?”

“Nothing! Look, we were just sleeping, man.”

On her comm Val pinged a few key pieces of information indicating the Osiris had been boarded. Currently held captive, Val still assured her everything would be fine. Again she told Paz to keep calm and do as these people said for now. That was easy given she could barely do anything anyway.

Pushed toward Sam she grabbed his outstretched arm, swinging half into his embrace and letting him pull her upright.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he breathlessly hissed, squeezing her tight. Head resting on his chest Paz moaned, wishing she hadn’t taken anything earlier. Wedging her between his hip and the dresser he frantically looked for something she could wear. “Everything’s fine. I gotcha. No worries.”

He sounded like he used to, concern so obvious in everything he did. She missed that part of him. Right now it sounded silly and she wanted to laugh but he was the only thing keeping her up. When he found a spare shirt it awkwardly went over her head, too big but at least it was something. Paz couldn’t help craning her neck and staring at the imposing figures behind them while he fumbled with sliding a pair of compression joggers up her legs, one side at a time.

“Who…who are they?” she asked, more to Sam than anyone else. Val answered almost immediately, pinging her to be quiet and that they were thieves. She’d gathered that from their outfits but she kept staring regardless. They stared back, likely for different reasons, and again she couldn’t help giggling.

“This is like a vid,” she murmured to Sam, aware he didn’t want her speaking. It couldn’t be helped—who expected a full-blown invasion on their ship? They weren’t even that well-known. “Sam, this—”

“Shut up,” he cut her off, sternly eyeballing her. Pouting now her gaze fell to the floor and she waited for him to finish. Lotus or not she didn’t like being told what do do, especially if it wasn’t coming from Val. She tried standing upright on her own, wobbling but managing. Good. The effects were at least lessening, adrenaline forcing her body to become more compliant.

With both dressed and at least awake Sam swiveled to their attacker, nerves prominent in how he fiddled with his shirt hem. “Alright, we’re ready. What do you want?”

“You know what they want,” Paz mumbled, ignoring his warning glare. It was obvious what they wanted; there wasn’t another reason to break in. “He wants—”

“Paz,” he snapped, as did Val via a ping. “Shut up! You’re gonna—”

“Quiet!” the gunman barked, and again Paz had the weirdest sense of deja vu. Like Sam however she bowed her head at the order, a gun much more likely to keep her quiet than anyone’s annoyance. “Both of you. Fuck.”

Muzzle pointing at Sam he continued. “You. Take us to the lab.” The gun then turned to her. “You, too. Come on.”

This time Sam sent her a ping, explicitly warning her to be quiet or else. Giving in Paz zipped her lips, gingerly following him past the gunman, his goons, and out into the lower deck’s hall. It took a lot of effort to hobble along, one hand holding the wall for support, the other nervously fidgeting. At her back she could feel the rifle. These people were intense. They had guns; she and Sam got it, thanks.

They passed no one else in the hall, though she could hear their pilot screaming epithets from somewhere down the way. Her shouts grew louder, culminating in an ear-splitting rant by the time Sam gained access to the lab, cringing as he entered.

“I’ll goddamned gut you all!” a woman tied up in the back screeched, normally tan face beet red. She thrashed in tight ropes, legs kicking like mad to try and reach several of the gunmen guarding her. Catching sight of Paz and Sam her eyes widened in frustration, both their comms suddenly flooded with pings detailing her loose plan to break free and take the intruders down. “Ugh! Are you kidding me? They don’t even know what they’re doing. He’s an idiot and she—well, same thing. You want this shit you gotta get it from me.”

“You are a firecracker,” one guard commented in delight, voice incredibly familiar. Frowning as their pilot threatened his life, Paz sent a ping to Val. That sounded like someone they’d met recently. When they laughed at Lonyn’s threats it confirmed what she’d already guessed, her jaw going loose. Even lotus couldn’t contain her disappointment.

“Reeser?” she gasped, certain she was right when one of their backs hunched rigidly. “You—we gave you a good deal! What the fuck, man?”

Several people groaned and the one who’d hunched held up a hand, making a rude gesture. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

“I let you in!” Paz exclaimed, ignoring the rifle jamming into her back. “I was nice—I called you cute!”

There were so many pings incoming, telling her to stop talking and she only did when the guy behind her grabbed her around the neck, wrecking her balance.

“It’s in your best interest to be quiet,” he hissed, words warm against her hair. “I know that’s all kinds of difficult for you but you should really do like they say.”

Eyes rolling she made a vague attempt to yank loose. “Not my fault. I thought he was an alright guy. How would _you_ feel if he stabbed you in the back?”

He didn’t bother with a response, letting up a bit and pushing her forward, grip never leaving unfortunately. Her follow up about Reeser being a dick went ignored, ruining the desire to keep bitching. Besides, all this struggling was exhausting. Damn, she wished this was out of her system already but that’d take hours.

By the time another guard followed Sam to the lab’s epicenter she was being held over a counter, cheek pressed to the cool surface, forgotten. Sam was directed to pull out every single batch he had at the moment. He grudgingly started the process, asking what they wanted the lotus placed in. A modest messenger bag was gifted to him via another guard. He took his time dumping in several cured batches. Paz’s heart ached—he’d spent so long working on this, only to have it ripped away by a bunch of thugs. Lotus wasn’t even that hard to come by. Why did Reeser’s group need it from them?

“I’m telling you,” Lonyn wheezed from several counters over, “this ain’t gonna end well. Take this shit and I guarantee you’ll pay for it.”

She was trying to stall them. Paz saw the orders from Val on their group pings. Distracted by what was happening in front of her she barely gathered from their pings that Val was currently under guard, Mandrelle was knocked out alongside her, and Sentia was non-responsive—they had no idea where she was. She could be their only hope, and the hope was she’d bust out emergency protocol if they stalled long enough. If that didn’t happen…well, Paz did have a lot of things she could say about Reeser.

While Sam painstakingly filled the bag Lonyn kept up her threats and Paz twisted her head, searching for the covered face of her minder. He watched Sam intently, irritation obvious. They would kill him soon if he didn’t hurry up.

“Look, I’m gonna be honest with you,” she slurred, finding her current position unpleasant. “Pilot’s right. You guys aren’t gonna like the consequences. She’ll bite you if she gets a chance—”

“Paz! Shut up!”

“What? I’m being honest. You bit me that one time we were in Eluvel and I just wanted to—”

“You deserved it! You were _smothering_ me—”

“Keeping you from poor decisions, big difference.”

“Oh my gods you motherfucker, can someone bring her here? Paz, you _know_ that had nothing to do with it!”

Paz grinned, shoulders flexing in a stretch. She was having fun now. “She bites like an animal. You’ll really regret crossing her, I promise.”

“And what about you?” Lonyn seethed, face blistering. “You’re the little psycho-monkey, not me.”

“Still don’t know what a monkey is, you never enlightened me.”

“You do, too! I told you!”

“Uh, nope. Don’t remember this.”

“Argh! Fuck you. _This_ is why we don’t have any good crew members. This always fucking happens!”

“Shut up!” the guy behind Paz thundered, everyone falling silent. Placing the muzzle on the back of her head he looked around the room. “Either of you say another word and she’s dead.” When Paz composed a new ping to Lonyn lamenting it’d almost worked he hissed and jabbed the gun at her skull. “Someone—anyone—disable their comms.”

Someone did, her comm fizzling out and leaving Paz in the dark with a residual shock. Yelping at the lack of sensation she finally grew afraid, uncertain they were going to pull out of this mess. Without a comm she was all alone, and she didn’t make the best decisions on her own. She looked over to Sam, unsurprised to see him staring right back, both suddenly so helpless.

“Yah,” Lonyn panted in the background, tone changing. “You want to point guns and all that bullshit come do it over here. She’s just an idiot, alright? Take it easy.”

“Here’s everything,” Sam added, topping off the bag with the last lotus crumbles. “Vent this every couple hours until the alcohol dries out. Then…then it should be ready for consumption.”

“Are you seriously giving it to him?” Paz wondered, hackles rising. What a waste. “Sam, I brought that shit clear across the galaxy— _you’ve_ been working on it for ages. These are just a bunch of thugs—”

“Thugs with guns,” Lonyn clarified, to which she nodded.

“Right. Thugs with guns, that’s all. Are we really gonna do this?”

“Would you like to live?” her minder inquired, gun digging in. Paz settled down, trying to think straight. On one hand she wanted to keep bitching; on the other hand she did enjoy breathing. Lotus made it difficult to really plan ahead, even more so than usual. She sighed, then quieted down. For now.

With the situation under control the gunman beckoned Sam to him. Sam complied, slowly shuffling forward.

“This isn’t personal,” he quietly told Sam, hefting the bag in his free hand. “Just need the credits.” Turning, he checked the exit. “We good? Look out for the one they were waiting on.”

Peeling her off the counter he pulled Paz with. She stumbled over her feet as he turned, knees cracking on the grating and earning a sharp yelp from her. He picked her up in a swoop, hold dizzyingly intimate. It felt…weird, yet she played into it, whimpering. While it’d numbed her inhibitions she’d shaken off the cloying calm holding her body hostage, adrenaline pushing lotus’s effects down. She had a bad feeling about this, sense or no sense.

“What’re—what’re you doing?” she questioned, continuing her sluggish reactions on the way out. He didn’t answer. Twisting, she frantically searched for Sam. He was watching, mouth agape. It only took a moment for him to pick up the slack.

“W-wait! Hold on—if you’re looking for a hostage take me, I can make more if you want!”

“Or me!” their pilot hollered, voice cracking from overuse. “I’ll give you a run for your credits.”

“Don’t want you two,” her captor replied, disgust obvious, pushing Paz right out the lab and into the hall. Judging by the scuffle behind them she knew Sam had broken out of his fear, desire to hold them off shining through. Even as he called her name she almost wanted to shake her head. That was too little too late. Even louder than him though Lonyn shrieked for Val, voice echoing as far as she could make it carry.

None of their efforts mattered. She was still escorted down the hall, up to the main level and out Osiris’s exit. Daysturis was still in night cycle, the docks dark and empty save for several more masked people, each toting guns as they manned the tarmac. Eyeing them as she was dragged down to the ground Paz wondered how they’d gotten so many guns past the cops. Also, where were they taking her? To a ship? A rover? What?

“Let me go,” she negotiated, voice quiet, steps dragging. Her captor kept pulling, ignoring her until she started whimpering. “Look, is it because I called Reeser out? I won’t—I swear I won’t say anything, just let me go.”

“Nah,” he simply replied, picking up the pace and making her heart hammer. He seemed distracted. “We don’t have a lot of time and—”

The air grew muted in a whoosh, then sharp as an explosion crashed behind them. Freezing where he was the gunman twisted, Paz trying to do the same, both cursing as smoke billowed from the Osiris’s underbelly. Dropped on the ground she stared wide eyed, impressed. This really wasn’t how she’d pictured her night going but perhaps things were starting to look up.

The smoke cleared, several figures having dropped from the ship and emerging on the tarmac. Shots filled the air, the insides of the Osiris likely in turmoil at the same time.

“Shit,” Paz breathed, resting a second, delighted to recognize Val, Mandrelle and the last member of their crew, Sentia, all carrying heavy weaponry from their stash. Glancing up at the gunman she couldn’t help smirking. “Told you not to fuck with them.”

Val heaved a rocket launcher over her shoulder, something neither of them missed. He swore, immediately picking Paz up and using her as a hostage. Despite her squeak of surprise he held on tight, strapping the bag over her shoulder. Great. Now she was a pack mule and a shield. Things were not looking up any longer.

“That’s mine!” Val’s voice boomed across the tarmac, anger unleashed. She readied the launcher, aiming above their heads. “Give her back— _now_!”

While this had become a time sensitive issue what with floodlights coming on across the docks, the wail of sirens not far behind, he didn’t do anything. Paz could feel his muscles twitching, seemingly waiting for something.

“You have my property,” Val barked, giving him one last chance. In the dark her mods emitted an ethereal light, the captain bathed in a yellow glow. “Give her back or I will tear up this entire colony until I have her in my possession and your severed head in my hands.”

“You want her back?” her captor taunted, grip tightening. “Come get her.”

Oh, that was the wrong thing to say.

“You’re gonna kill us,” Paz murmured, heart picking up. Sagging against him she hoped she was making his position more difficult.

“You don’t want me to do that,” Val threatened. Steadying her aim she added, “Better have thick skin.”

Another boom echoed across the tarmac, a rocket screaming overhead. It sailed over Paz and while her captor was distracted her elbow pushed back as hard as it could, his hold weakening in an instant. The rocket hit a neighboring ship, both air and ground quaking. Pieces of shrapnel rained down over the docks along with all sorts of rubble.

Using it to her advantage Paz kicked off him, launching away and bolting through the metal debris. She took off in the opposite direction of the Osiris, unwilling to go back, not when everything was so volatile. Instead she ducked between two huge ships, feet practically flying, bag held tight to her frame. There was no way these people were getting her _and_ this much product.

The further she moved the more illuminated the docks were. Panting for air she kept going, dodging here and there, ducking under a fence at one point and climbing over a container the next. Behind her she could hear the remnants of the firefight, loud explosions sending a quiver beneath her feet every couple seconds.

Looking back wasn’t an option. She focused only on distancing herself and the product, and getting as lost as she could. Honestly she had no idea where she’d gone in the maze of docking lanes and mess of ships, everything around her unfamiliar. What she was looking for she didn’t know but she needed to hide, somewhere these creeps wouldn’t find her. Her senses were still so dull from lotus, making it difficult to come up with anything good beyond climbing higher than anyone else could. That way, at least she’d be able to see if someone was coming for her.

Lost, and unsure how much longer she could run, her eyes darted upward from crates whizzing past, searching for something to climb. Lonyn wasn’t wrong when she called her a monkey and sure enough, up ahead a tower of stacked containers loomed in the shadows.

Already feeling ready to drop she pushed harder, lotus the only thing hindering her now, and hauled ass for the crates. By now the docks buzzed with tepid life, people emerging from their ships and wondering what the hell was going on. She ignored them, reaching the stack in record time. Lunging for a corner container she pulled herself up, muscles working overtime to take her higher and higher. Each crate climbed was a success and she did not stop, scaling them like a cliff, bag constantly jiggling at her side. No one would dare follow her up here, not without a ship. If they needed a ship they’d need to fly and the docks were a no-fly zone, not until one approached the landing gate.

Plus, if someone were to try climbing this it’d take them forever. She was hylerian; this was easy. By the time they reached the top she’d already be at the other side on the bottom. The other side, she realized with dismay once she hit the top, was the wall keeping Daysturis safe and contained from the void of space. Whatever. She’d made it, she wasn’t going to think about it now. Dropping to her butt on the highest crate she looked around at the dimly lit docks, cop shuttles flashing here and there and still more smoke rising from where she imagined the Osiris was still anchored.

Damn, she hadn’t seen Val that serious in years. Glancing down at her bag Paz smirked; that blast was going to cost them, but at least she’d kept all their product. Well, finished product.

Lying down to catch her breath she looked for her comm, hoping there was a way to bring it back. Sentia was good at the tech things, not her. She pushed through several menus, trying several tricks to restart but didn’t have enough expertise, she supposed, to wake it up. Rubbing a hand over both eyes she inhaled deeply, regretting having climbed so high.

The soft shush of cloth snapped her eyes right back open, staring up at the muzzle of another rifle. Freezing, her eyes traveled higher, disappointed to find her previous captor.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck,” he roughly growled, somehow not even out of breath. Rifle aimed at her he nodded toward the bag. “Let’s go.”

Exhaling hard, Paz slowly raised her hands and sat up, lip curling in disdain. Sure he wouldn’t stop aiming anytime soon her gaze traveled to the docks below. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where was the rest of his posse? She didn’t see anyone else and no one from the Osiris, of course.

She looked back up to him, hating everything about his calm, collected, masked appearance. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Let’s go,” he urged, ignoring the question, rifle poking at her back. Grumbling under her breath Paz forced herself to her feet, sore legs protesting.

“Can’t believe you made it up here,” she whined, gingerly stepping to the edge of the container. It was a long way to the ground, too many containers to count. Ugh, why had she picked climbing?

Oh, right, because it was still difficult to chase up and down. Relying on faith alone she pushed off, clearing the next container down and dropping to the one below, crashing against it with a yelp and a thud. A solid curse came from above and she knew he was headed down next. She scrambled to her knees, dropping off that container and to the next, this time at least a little softer.

“Stop!”

He made demands like he was Val. Val’s words had worth; no one else’s did. Paz forced herself down container sides either one or two at a time, sliding down three once specifically because they were stacked too perfectly but at least her fingers caught a ledge before it turned into four. All the while, through each jump, leap and roll, he followed her hardly several steps behind. He was almost as good at her, drops more efficient, but he wasn’t as desperate.

Nearing the ground her thinking grew unclear, focusing entirely on getting there before him and doing whatever it took to make that happen. Once he almost grabbed her foot—she kicked like a goddamn animal and wriggled to the next container.

Somehow her feet touched the tarmac first. Taking the chance to look back she wasn’t surprised to find him thudding to the ground several seconds later, launching right after her. What the fuck was this guy? Normal people couldn’t keep up with her; where was he from?

Legs carrying her down a lane she dodged past crew workers, panting on an entirely new level. Speed was the only thing she had left so she had to make her steps count. She made a sharp right at the first new lane, sprinting past more containers and parked shuttles. Stealing a shuttle sounded great but it’d take too much time, not when he was so close behind her. Fuck, he was matching her step for step. Digging deep Paz begged her legs to stretch farther, vision sparkling with adrenaline and panic. She didn’t know where she was at this point, couldn’t point to town or the end of the docks. All she wanted was to lose this guy.

Darting to her left she slid between two crates, just barely squeezing through and popping out into another lane. Behind her he cursed, wedged between the crates a little too tightly to move right on through. Relieved she’d gained some ground Paz pushed harder, doing the same thing through another small tunnel constructed of crates. By now he wasn’t even ten paces behind her; more liked fifty. Perfect. Searching for any small crevices to fit through she cut through three more lanes, finding herself in another deserted lane full of equally abandoned crates, the majority wide open.

Unable to see her chaser anymore Paz ran for the crates, prepared to do the same thing as before. Leaping at a crate on the ground she caught its roof, pulling herself up with a little effort. This was repeated several more times until she was at the top of the heap, hunkering down as she tiptoed across the roofs. Thinking she might be able to outsmart him she slipped off the roof of one, dropping into an open container and then scaling around its side to another one. Two of its side doors were wide open, the crate hanging precariously over the rest of the heap.

Somehow holding her pounding breath she crawled to the very edge on her belly, cautiously looking out below. He was nowhere in sight, but of course who knew what that meant at this point? Fuck, how was she going to lose him if he could climb and run just as fast as her? That couldn’t be possible. No one was as good as her at that shit, that was why Val had kept her for so long.

Letting out her breath she backed up a bit and sat up, quickly rotating the bag she’d managed to hold onto in her lap. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind he’d probably find her again; trackers who tracked that well didn’t just give up. Flipping open the bag she dug a hand through the lotus crystals, certain this was what he wanted. It had to be. Despite half of it being crushed it still had a combined value of maybe…ninety million? That’s what she’d estimate it at, anyway.

Fuck, there was no way she was letting him have this, not when he’d threatened her crew and then chased her all over the damn docks. Sam had worked too hard on these batches, she’d traveled to an absurd number of planets to find and retrieve raw product, and their crew had been doing this for too long to be robbed by some dick in a mask. If anyone was going to get something out of this it was going to be her crew.

Palm clutching a handful of the crystals, Paz shoved the entire thing in her mouth. Hylerians had good stomachs, that’s what Val always said. They were good at climbing, running, finding things, falling apparently, and they had some hardy internal organs. Time to test that out. Scooping crystals up by the handful Paz kept downing as much of it as she could, gagging at the taste but soldiering on. She had to move fast; its effects would kick in soon and with this amount she had no idea what said effects would be like.

“Alright, this ends now.” His voice echoed through the hollow container, boots thudding behind her. Spine tingling, Paz shoveled more lotus in and prayed he’d go away. Her body already felt weird, a sudden warm sensation thrumming through her veins. “Look, this doesn’t—what the fuck are you doing?”

He was in front of her in an instant, kicking the bag out of her lap, millions of credits worth of product spilling across and out the container. Paz swallowed what was left in her mouth, a cold sweat breaking out across her skin.

“What the fuck did you do?” he demanded, words soft at first but growing in volume. Dropping to his knees in front of her he grabbed her thighs, easily knocking her dirty hands away. “Paz! What the fuck did you do?”

Call her crazy, or maybe antiauthoritarian, but Paz wasn’t about to tell him. He could kill her, or maybe the lotus would, but he wasn’t going to get what he wanted. Her head tilted back, humming in distress as she tried swallowing the last of it.

“Paz!” her captor seethed through his teeth, supremely pissed with her. “Don’t you dare swallow that!”

Lotus tasted so disgusting, making her want to retch right then and there. She wanted nothing more than to get this over with but…wait, why hadn’t he killed her yet? All that product was useless now; once it was out of its sterile environment and contaminated with any kind of liquid (such as saliva), it was effectively only good for cleaning drains due to its corrosive nature.

And sure, it was okay to use in small quantities, but Paz had just placed an unholy amount in her mouth. As soon as it hit the stomach it would disintegrate organs from the inside out. That was a normal person, however, not her. Maybe she’d have a bit more luck. If not soon she’d be vomiting blood while simultaneously foaming at the mouth like the idiot she apparently was. Great.

Growing desperate, the gunman ripped off his mask, revealing the face of a young man no older than thirty or so. Deep brown hair framed that face and bright blue eyes fearfully stared her down, eyes she recognized. Staring back her addled brain pinpointed him to someone she’d met recently. This was…fuck, who was it?

The guy, from the fuel depot. What was his name? Her brain couldn’t think, clouded with heavy handed numbness. One second she felt at least coherent and the next it was like her body had slammed against the ground, gravity too much to fight against. Strong hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her forward before she slumped backward.

“Topaz,” he begged, clearly knowing her name. His chest rose with large, angry breaths. “How much did you take? We’re not here for lotus, Topaz. That was just to get closer to you.”

Closer to her? What did that mean? Why her? And how did he know her? Was it really the fuel depot guy? Fixing dilated eyes on him she tried deciphering his panicking features to what she…fuck, she didn’t remember. Everything was blurring together, thoughts and movements and even her breath. Every ounce of control slipped from her capabilities, stomach churning violently while it simultaneously rejected lotus and absorbed what it could.

“Topaz!” he hoarsely barked, shaking her in an attempt to reason. “Please, spit it out. Spit it out! This wasn’t supposed to happen, okay? Just…just give me a moment to explain.”

Explain what? There wasn’t anything to explain as far as she was concerned and it wasn’t like she cared anymore, either. Her body wasn’t hers any longer, pushing deeper and deeper in a downward spiral. These people were after her, and first they wanted the lotus but now they just wanted her? In what universe would this kind of scenario be okay? This guy couldn’t be serious.

There was a bottom to the spiral and she hit it hard, every muscle and nerve abruptly revolting, desperate to escape her skin. Convulsing into herself Paz clutched at her middle. She’d hardly had time to even process the product but it didn’t matter. It was too much. Her ears buzzed as sweat poured from her body. She couldn’t breathe. Everything felt too suffocating, even her own skin. Growing dizzy, she attempted to lift her head up to find her captor but it was hard. Everything seemed to blend into one giant smear of color.

She hadn’t truly anticipated what happened next, however, her ideas always more great in thought than when executed. While her body lost control of itself she found herself falling against someone’s chest. He grabbed the back of her neck with one hand, her lips with the other. In an instant fingers were down her throat and she was suddenly vomiting up _everything_. Tears streamed down her face while toxic material tore her throat on the way back up. Barely conscious, she still understood how bad this looked.

“We need to get her home,” he instructed to no one in particular, forcing her eyelids open with (hopefully) his other hand. Her body continued shutting down. Paz was forced to look at his terrified face hovering over hers. A light shone in her eyes, making them tear even more, and then he dug his fingers onto one side of her neck in search of a pulse. “Now. Fuck, she’s gonna be dead before we even get her there.”

Huh. So she was going to die, was she? Pain wracked her body in harsh waves, and she wanted nothing more than to make it stop, but Paz couldn’t help but feel proud for messing up the plan these people had. Good. She hoped she died. She didn’t want to help anyone who pointed a gun at her.

Still cursing he kept her eyes open and continued to monitor her even as her pupils dilated to near perfect black circles and a horrid mixture of blood and saliva drooled from her mouth. He didn’t seem to care about any of that. He just wanted her alive.

“Hey,” he called as her vision began to darken. “Hey! Paz, look at me. _Look at me_. Paz! Fuck, she’s going black. Come on! Desh—bring water, please.” He hurriedly slapped at her face, hoping to keep her in the present but nothing was working. She’d fallen into the lotus’s trap, its grip refusing to let go of her at this point and why would it? She’d consumed what some people could probably make last for several years. “Come on. Stay with me. I need you. Please…. _stay with me_.”

Eyes rolling backwards, Paz went limp in his grip and slumped on him. His voice had become loud again as he roared orders, but she didn’t care—she couldn’t understand any of the noise crashing in her ears.

Well. At least she could die knowing she’d resisted to the bitter end. That did offer a bit of relief.


	7. Ch 5

Darkness. Drowning in it, it felt like it was all she’d ever experienced, the depths of the universe closing in on her at all times. Some moments it was painful, suffocating and panic-inducing, a ripping sensation she couldn’t identify searing through her. Other times everything was numb, the void a calming blanket wrapped tight and shielding her from the worst.

It was truly bizarre. She couldn’t imagine anything else, content to simply float. When pain eventually meandered back she’d have a fit but other than that there was…nothing.

Until there was. After a particularly fiery hell the darkness faded, enveloping her in a vivid sea of shimmering magenta. Exhausted for no particular reason she lay listless in its embrace, happy to float along. Something touched her brow, smoothing over it. She didn’t see anyone specifically but there they were, her body responding accordingly with a sigh of relief. It’d been so long since she’d felt something human, if ever.

Crippling pain swelled in her belly and she curled inward, hoping to soften the blow, blindly reaching out, hand catching taut flesh. She held tight, fire spreading across her being at an unbearable rate. It’d never hurt like this before, not that she could remember. The magenta hell quickly tilted, rolling sideways and sending everything spinning.

A second later she was cradled tightly once more, ears tickling with distracted warmth. The haze broke, flashes of someone’s face peeking through. She didn’t know them, didn’t understand why they were smiling. It should’ve been comforting but wasn’t, not when she didn’t know who they were, their face grossly distorted as her panic took over, fear consuming her back into the dark.

Weak limbs thrashed through seizing pain, hellbent on escape. Her body was pulled down, liquid gushing around her, hands grasping at skin and dragging her under. Mouth open wide in a gasp she tried and failed to take in any air. The liquid was over her neck, darkness going so black it turned a sparkling white and destroying any sense of being. All of this was so wrong, so inhuman. Frozen as is she stared at the warped, blinding void, heart pounding, certain this was death.

She couldn’t die, not here. She could get through this. Everything would go back to normal so long as she kept breathing, which…well, she was trying her best. She could do this, she could.

Just…she needed a chance. All she needed was some time, that was how it’d always been. Just a little more. She could do it. She always could.

Her head tipped back, a thumb working over her brow again. Through blistering heat she could physically feel it, knew it was real, knew someone was touching her. Delirious, she turned toward them, hissing for Sam but something wouldn’t let her speak. She tried again anyway, certain if he just…if he heard her…

He knew she’d pull through like she always did. She’d never leave him, not forever. All she needed was some more time.

X

Val found her a long, long time ago, when she was a baby, she believed. What happened to her parents she didn’t know but Val raised her instead, first aboard a different ship and eventually, once she had the credits, on the Osiris. Some people came and went but a few she’d known her entire life, like Sentia and Mandrelle. They ensured she didn’t fry herself in the engine room. Lonyn was the newest, having come on several years ago under the promise of better pay and Sam…he was a bit like her, a bit abandoned.

Val bought him at some point in his early teens, graciously tolerating his outbursts but growing tired of his insolence until he proved useful in the lab. Whereas she was thrown at many problems he stayed in the lab, forever. Much as he disliked it…it was where he fit and the pay was good. Least he did get paid nowadays.

Watching him behind what looked like hazy glass she kept trying to explain why she ran away but it wasn’t even clear to her why she did it. She was sorry though, aware Val would put her through hell for this.

She'd run away numerous times as a child but the desire to leave eventually broke. Val did care for her, always had. She’d known that forever but…eventually she knew who’d face the consequences for allowing her to escape. Once she stopped it was like she became a real member of the crew, not someone’s pet. Suddenly she was sent on solo trips, trust finally earned.

Thus she kept apologizing, adamant on making sure Sam knew she didn’t mean it this time. No matter what she said he ignored her, frustrating her to no end.

He wasn’t listening because none of it was real, something she was disappointed to learn upon realizing she wasn’t…actually with him. Her eyelids fluttered as she woke, skin oily and heavy as if she’d been out for ages. It was almost embarrassing knowing she’d been dreaming.

But…waking up didn’t seem quite right, either. Something funny was lodged in her throat, hard and unforgiving. It felt…kind of like a tube? Whatever it was, it was ridiculously uncomfortable. Determined to figure out what the problem was she brought a hand to her—

Pain shot through her wrist, eyes instantly opening to find nothing familiar. Where the hell was she? Everything was grey…sterile grey, machines lining a small room. Attempting to sit up brought a high degree of fiery pain to her belly. Screaming was her next option but she couldn’t because there really was something in her throat. So…now she was choking. Great. What a wonderful way to wake up.

Electronic alarms seemingly everywhere around her screeched and as panicked as she was she couldn’t help trying to reorient herself. This looked like a clinical room of sorts, though she couldn’t be certain. All the machines blinking red and green screens around her buzzed, but at least she was in some kind of bed. Okay, a table. That was…good?

Glancing down she was mortified to find IV’s snaking into both arms. Beyond that, two tubes connected from both her nose and mouth down her throat like some kind of torture device. How…what happened? She didn’t exactly remember what occurred prior to…this.

She’d been sleeping on the Osiris when she and Sam…Sam! Where was Sam? Had he been hurt, too? Wait…no, she’d run away from the ship, tried to hide from…thieves wanting lotus. Ugh, she felt sick just thinking about the drug. Oh no, she was just sick because of…she vaguely recalled swallowing a good amount, cringing at the stupid idea.

Still, if she was alive then she must’ve managed somehow. Perhaps that was why she was here? Where was everyone else? It didn’t look like the med bay on the Osiris. Still trying to sit up she tried pinging Sam but couldn’t find her messages. Hell, she couldn’t even bring up a menu. It was like her comm was gone.

Still half-choking she went to work gently screwing IV’s out of her wrists, suddenly reminded how fragile the human body could be as pain threatened to send her back to the dark world she’d emerged from. Her head reeled but she soldiered on, ripping one out with a nausea-inducing squelch. With her newly freed right hand she clawed at the tubes masking her face. She couldn’t breathe; they had to come out or else she was going to die and then Sam would never know how sorry she was.

Only seconds after freeing her hand a team of three people in white overcoats flooded the room via a door she hadn’t noticed in one corner. While the others diligently worked on the machines surrounding her one of the whitecoats examined her with a look that clearly indicated she hadn’t imagined her day going this way. Her coat had that little sign doctors wore, indicating she must be somewhere in a colony.

Doctors…oh, doctors! Relaxing, Paz flung herself back onto the table. They’d be able to tell her what was going on and maybe fix this whole choking business. She was really tired of the choking bit.

“Wow!” the dark haired whitecoat remarked, pulling on gloves and readying herself. “You would’ve been out of here in a couple more minutes, huh? Unfortunately for you, you would’ve bled enough to lose consciousness and then we’d bring you right back here but hey, nobody likes that part so I’m glad it didn’t come to that.”

Sucking air between her teeth she examined where Paz managed unhooking the IV, clucking sympathetically. “Sorry about that. I know, nobody likes seeing themselves all hooked up but it was the best we could do while you were out.”

Flinching while it was put back into place Paz weakly, but carefully, pointed at her throat with the other hand. Her doctor glanced at the gesture, nodding in understanding but doing nothing about it. “Sorry, we can’t take that out yet. Your body hasn’t adjusted to everything.”

Everything? What did she mean, _everything_? She was beginning to get the feeling nobody would tell her anything, and if that was the case she couldn’t remain here. She needed answers. She needed to know where Val, where Sam was. None of these people were familiar and this lady was telling her things she didn’t care to hear. It took half her energy to try and sit up again.

“Oh no,” the doctor commented, laughing while readying a syringe. “I’ve seen enough of what you can do; I don’t put up with bullshit.”

What? But she was a doctor, wasn’t she? Weren’t they supposed to be trustworthy? Paz hated she couldn’t scream as the woman forced one arm down, injecting whatever it was into her veins. Almost immediately her muscles relaxed to the point of paralysis.

“There we go, Aim,” one of the other whitecoats informed her doctor. “Her vitals should return to normal in a bit.”

“Good,” Aim, her doctor, murmured. Picking up Paz’s bloody arm she examined it once more. “Get me some wrap for this, if you would.”

Her new team of providers quickly patched her up like she’d never had a fit in the first place. Eventually, Aim must’ve felt bad for her condition and repositioned her neck so the tubes weren’t so cloying.

Only partially alert, Paz watched them monitor her. She’d never seen any of these people in her life but that was to be expected because she didn’t get sick very often. Val never needed to take her anywhere for treatment or the like. That was what more fragile humans did, didn’t they? But…something about them, something about her being here and in such a weak state, seemed off.

Sensing what she was thinking Aim perched at the foot of the table, arms crossed. “I know this is traumatizing but trust me, I’m only here to make sure you recover. I took the Oath several two decades ago and I’m in no position to turn my back against it now, not even for these people.”

That wasn’t comforting. Helpless, and fairly sure she was drooling, she continued watching Aim with suspicion. It occurred to her after a moment that her chest rose and fell on its own. No wonder she’d been choking earlier; she was trying to breathe when something else was already doing it for her. It had to be one of the tubes.

Aim started saying something else but stopped, glancing at the far end of the room. Paz glanced where the doctor looked but an IV bag blocked her view. The doctor got off the table, coming round to check her eyes with a small light.

“Ye, she’s stable,” her doctor mentioned to no one in particular. “She should be up in a couple of days, but you’ve got to promise me…don’t push her. Internal reconstruction is incredibly damaging. If she isn’t ready then you’ll wait until she is. Okay?”

Someone else sighed, impatience obvious. “Ye. I promise. I won’t screw this up any more than I already have.”

If Paz could scream she would’ve. She knew that voice. Everything flooded back in an instant and she wanted to hit something. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck…so she survived, and now the gunman for the thieves was in her room. Seriously, where the hell was she? This guy was dangerous! He shouldn’t have been allowed anywhere _near_ a place of healing.

Aim patted her shoulder before exiting with the others, her presence replaced by that of the guy who’d attempted kidnapping her. Paz did her best to recall who he was but couldn’t remember the name he gave her (she heard a lot of names in her travels, okay?). Fuck, what was it?

He sidled up to the table, looking her up and down before muttering something under his breath. Examining multiple IV bags strung around her he touched a couple before his eyes wandered to her middle. Relieved she at least had a flimsy gown covering her and a couple layers of blankets she hoped he wouldn’t try anything stupid. What did he want with her? He’d spoken about how he only wanted to get to her earlier; was getting her alone in a medical room what he meant?

“I’m really…sorry, about what happened,” he apologized, voice quiet. Watching him, she was certain he’d try taking advantage of her. But really, what did it matter? If she was here and not on the Osiris then obviously something wrong occurred. Fuck, Sam… Val was going to kill her once she tracked her down.

“I shouldn’t have gone after the lotus,” he relented, owning up to the careless mistake. “I should’ve just asked for you.” Blanching, he hated how that came out. “Ah, sorry; that probably makes it sound worse, ye?”

Pausing a moment, he was clearly trying to find some kind of explanation for his previous actions. Rubbing a hand over his lips, he strode around the table and dragged a stark chair from one corner, settling into it. Elbows on his knees he leaned forward to continue getting a good look at her. She did the the same, incredibly nervous. Yes, this was the guy she met at the fuel depot. She couldn’t for the life of her remember his name but his features she recognized.

His blue eyes were clearly modded—they were just too bright. He had sharp facial features but a broad chin, and his tanned skin betrayed he’d been exposed to high levels of cosmic radiation—he was definitely a traveler, too. At least he wasn’t lying about that. When he’d stood next to her he towered over her. Damnit, even if she could move he’d likely be able to hold her down.

“I know you’re probably confused right now,” he started, hoping to quell her current anxious state. “Probably pissed, too, and I wouldn’t blame you. But—I can’t explain everything right now. I want you to get better first. Once we’re in deeper space…I’ll tell you everything, I promise.” He inhaled deeply. “Until then, just do your best to heal.”

Unwanted tears blurred her view of him. Paz closed her eyes, hoping to make it stop. She didn’t want to hear anything else. Apparently she’d been successfully kidnapped, and while his apologies sounded somewhat sincere they weren’t. If he was really sorry he wouldn’t have chased her in the first place. Damnit, she should’ve been stronger, should’ve run faster, should’ve hidden better. She shouldn’t have let him know she’d swallowed so much lotus in the first place. If only she’d let it rest in her system a little longer…

Growing uncomfortable he cleared his throat and stood once more, pacing around the room in an effort to let some energy go. “Aim says she didn’t get a chance to tell you about your condition. You’re lucky to be alive, Topaz.”

She didn’t feel very lucky, and that only made the tears roll down her cheeks faster, a horrid thing in itself. She wanted her crew, wanted Val here to take care of things. Any one of them would do do. They would know how to get her out of here.

Damnit, why was her comm turned off? Everything hurt, she’d clearly been tricked, and now she couldn’t even send for help. They might as well choke her now with these tubes because there was no way she was going to do anything he asked.

“So it turns out swallowing that much lotus is way over the lethal limit,” her companion divulged, stopping next to her hip. He gently placed a hand on her abdomen, testing for something. Entirely numb, she couldn’t even feel his fingers while they probed. “Luckily for you, we were able to get most of it out by force but toxic levels still made it to your system. You blacked out initially, which was for the best if I’m being honest. I can’t imagine you would’ve found our method flushing it out very pleasant. Even so, it was already eating away at your organs. We took you out of Daysturis and got you back to a shuttle soon as possible. Aim pumped your stomach a few more times for good measure.”

He cringed. “Unfortunately the damage was already done. Your throat’s scarred to hell, but at least it’s intact. You were bleeding profusely from your organs, so…Aim did whatever she could to keep you alive. I don’t want you to be surprised when you’re able to walk around, but you’re going to have some scarring. She had to…replace some vital organs with donors, and finding those organs took some time given…what you are. That’s why you’ve been here the past three weeks.”

_Three weeks_?

Truly, she wanted nothing more than to vomit right now. If he was telling the truth then she’d like to rip out every single new organ inside of her. And they kept her like this for nearly a month?! Who were these people?! They didn’t even ask her if she wanted other people’s organs! Ugh, she wanted to _kill_ this guy.

“I know that’s a lot to process,” he continued, running a hand over his short hair. It was clear he didn’t enjoy explaining all of this. “But please believe me when I say I need you alive, Topaz. We couldn’t take any chances, not after the stunt you pulled, so we had no choice but to do anything that might help. That’s going to set us back, but…I understand. I know this isn’t easy for anyone, especially you, so take your time.”

Stepping closer to her face, he smoothed her hair before stooping closer. He was fairly handsome, reminding her why she’d gone and fucked him in the first place, and she hated herself even more now that she knew he was some kind of kidnapping thief who also knew where to get extra organs. Goddamnit, she’d hit the criminal lottery. “When you’re ready I’ll go over everything with you. We’ll be in better space in a few days, hopefully you’ll be more cooperative by then.”

He said these things like they were going to help. Still crying, she was relieved when his presence left her side. The door to her room shut a moment later, giving her time to process what she’d been told.

They’d replaced her internal organs with ones from strangers. They kept her in some kind of drug induced coma for three weeks apparently. And, finally, she was being taken to an undisclosed location known only as ‘better space.’ Given that her comm feeds weren’t working one bit none of this information was useful to her, but…

It still stung. She’d been in some sticky situations before, but it’d never been bad enough she couldn’t get out of them. She’d been held hostage on pirate shuttles but even those never lasted long. This, however, seemed a little more permanent. Fuck…how was she supposed to get in contact with Val, or even see the Osiris again when she didn’t know what was going on?

As she continued mulling over her situation it occurred to her she still didn’t recall his name. Despite that, she shamefully recognized she was probably how he and his team found their ship.

Still paralyzed she miserably wished she’d been more responsible, at least that one time.


	8. Ch 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, desperation makes you do some stupid ish.

“You got this?”

“Uh huh.”

“Sure about that?”

Paz’s eyes rolled, fingers tightening around Aim’s nonetheless. It was the second day she’d been IV and tube free and she’d been thinking diligently, preparing herself for what would come and recovering best she could. There was clearly no more lotus in her system which was great, because she wouldn’t have been thinking so carefully otherwise. Aim helped her every step of the way, monitoring her vitals, ensuring she got movement, and injecting her with all kinds of painkillers that, unlike her previous drug of choice, didn’t make her that loopy. Those just had the dual benefit of keeping her comfortable and ensuring she likely wouldn’t break out, though what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

She would if it were feasible. It wasn’t, at least not yet with the doctor always here so she took to doing whatever Aim wanted, certain the older woman would go soft on her. She was a lot like Val—they listened to sort of the same music, they looked around the same age, and Aim had that exasperated mother quality to her that Val tried hiding. Therefore, Paz’s escape plan relied on utilizing some of those traits.

The thing they didn’t realize was she was Hylerian. Human, yes, but Hylerians, per Val, were a bit more enduring. It was why she survived and why she knew she’d escape here soon. All she needed was a golden opportunity and it felt like that’d occur in the near future. They assumed she was weak right now which…she was, but not how they thought.

For now she bided her time, waiting. Aim was incredibly patient with her, even now encouraging her as she pulled her from the table, letting her stand up for the first time in her care. It was strange finally being up, her body unused to it, making her a bit dizzy from the sensation.

“Look at you,” the doctor admonished in high pitched joy, way too proud of her. “Standing on your own! Pretty soon you’ll be zipping on out of here causing all kinds of trouble.”

Ignoring the comment Paz gripped tighter, taking several timid steps from the medical table. Aim wouldn’t be pleased later to learn the kind of trouble she could make.

She was guided around the tiny room while Aim mumbled into her comm about the progress made. Paz listened best she could, legs wobbling unhelpfully. Happy as she was about standing she still hadn’t seen herself, still didn’t know where they were or what was going on. Her insides always ached despite constant painkillers and she was beginning to think Val lied about her body being tougher than most. Her captain knew she’d never check to verify such a dumb thing.

“You know,” Aim quipped out of the blue, pausing in their short walk, “you’re pretty quiet. I’ve never met such a shy Hylerian before.”

Paz wouldn’t know; she’d only met maybe two Hylerians in her life and they were both enslaved. She hadn’t thought to chat up the help. Her being quiet here had a lot to do with being kidnapped and she kept her mouth shut out of personal policy: she didn’t say smart things sometimes, so it was best to shut up.

“Aim,” she distracted, gaze sneaking to the door. “What do you know about that guy?”

“What guy?” The doctor frowned. “Gotta be more specific.”

Her skin stretched uncomfortably as they turned, burning for several moments. Aim asked earlier if it hurt when she manipulated certain areas and she lied, having practiced that for days. “You know, the one with the—never mind. He came in a couple days ago.”

“Oh—Coram?” Frowning, Aim’s gaze rested on Paz’s bare feet. She wasn’t exactly forthcoming with information, so Paz was doing the same. “Thought you two knew each other.”

In the vaguest sense, sure. Blanching, Paz wavered in Aim’s grip, reminding herself to hold it together. “Uh…”

“He says you met on your travels,” she continued, completely casual, sighing wistfully. “Sure wish I could travel like that nowadays. Anyway, good thing you met him when you did. What’d he say to recruit you?”

_Oh_ , snickering hurt but she did it anyway. It got so bad she let go and leaned against several machines on the wall, Aim’s worried hovering making it even more hilarious.

“What?” the doctor wanted to know, brown eyes flitting over her, focusing on the hand clutching her middle. “What? What’s wrong?”

“He said he recruited me?” Paz finally gasped, head tilting back. Fuck, as funny as that was she needed to calm down. “Hold on, what’d he recruit me for?”

The doctor began explaining but caught herself, frown deepening. She stepped back, suspicions raising. One hand drew to her hip while the other clutched at her throat. “What…okay, how’d you meet? For real.”

Wiping a tear from one eye Paz couldn’t help her bitter smirk. “We hooked up at a fuel depot, that’s literally it.”

Staring at her, a plethora of expressions crossed Aim’s face, her jaw loose. Paz brightened; she’d just found her opportunity.

“That’s it?”

She nodded. “He never said anything about recruiting and then like, two weeks later he’s picking me out of bed saying ‘let’s go’. I don’t even—”

“He didn’t even _ask_ if you wanted to be here?” Aim’s eyes were wide, incredulous. She clearly wasn’t told the version of events Paz went through. Her jaw dropped further before snapping shut, gaze drawing to the door. “He didn’t—you’re joking.”

“For the record I didn’t agree to any of this,” Paz informed her, aware it sounded dumb. “Neither did my cap—”

“He’s such a lying sack of shit,” Aim cut her off, stepping aside and sliding open the door. She threw a lethal look over her shoulder. “Stay put. I’ll be right back. I need to bitch at him.”

The door slid shut. Immediately she heard Aim hissing on her comm. Insanely proud Coram was in trouble Paz wasted no time, grabbing the only chair in the room and hauling it over to the corner where an air vent lay. Aim shouldn’t have left her alone but…well, it wasn’t like she’d tell on herself.

A loose cardigan and dress wasn’t appropriate for this but the doctor wouldn’t let her wear anything else. Hopping up she pried at the vent, pleased when it popped right out. It was delicately set on the floor and then she peered down the dark, cramped tunnel. There wasn’t any time to debate where it’d lead, she just needed away from these people. She needed time to figure out how to contact Val.

Pulling herself up and in she couldn’t ignore pain seizing through her belly, stitches angrily stretching apart, organs protesting the sudden squeeze. They’d need to get used to it if they wanted to stay inside her.

She wiggled forward, diving into the ventilation system and scrabbling with smooth metal to disappear down the first stretch. All too soon the sound of Aim’s distressed cry echoed behind her. Hurrying up she slithered around the first corner, insides threatening to come apart but still holding.

“Topaz! _Topaz_.” The angry rattling had to be coming from Aim attempting to pull herself inside. Good luck to her, this thing was barely big enough for the smaller Hylerian. “Topaz! Get your ass back here, you’re gonna ruin your stitching! Oh my gods—fuck!”

“Ye, fuck you, too,” she muttered to herself between pants, continuing her wiggle. Mind spinning she started sweating almost immediately, adrenaline pushing through the painkillers and placing her in a world of hurt. Biting her lip she did all she could not to moan, crawling as quickly and quietly as possible, taking turns here and there and losing herself in the dark.

Below her came the occasional call or laugh but that was about it. That didn’t matter to her anyway. She kept going, only pausing when she heard _that_ voice, Coram snipping at someone else. He wasn’t beneath her long, though she knew he was bitching back at Aim, trying to reason this wasn’t his fault.

Oh, it was _so_ his fault. At a turn Paz maneuvered on her side, panting. It felt like her skin was splitting apart. One hand managed behind her back, fingers slipping under the dress and searching for raised lines on her right shoulder. He was the one who pulled all this bullshit, not her. She couldn’t think of a single reason he needed to kidnap her besides to be a dick and even if he did need her for something he could’ve asked—Val loaned her out all the time. Well, not as much lately but still, if he’d named the right price Val would’ve surely sent her his way. None of this was necessary so really, it was all his fault. She hoped this entire experience was a major headache for him.

Scratching at thin, sensitive skin her heart thudded anxiously. Where was it? Where was the tattoo? It was how…Val kept tabs on her. Where was it? Her fingers grew frantic, reaching further, panic imminent. It wasn’t there. It wasn’t…how was that possible?

Senses swinging wildly she twisted back on her belly, whimpering as something definitely squelched. It was impossible to think clearly any longer. Pulling herself forward she couldn’t help focusing on what’d gone wrong. She was lost, stuck in ventilation on a strange ship, and there was no way Val could find her. This wasn’t looking good.

It felt like she was losing blood, legs cold as they slid through something wet that definitely wasn’t there when she first crawled through. This couldn’t get any worse.

Yet it did. She cringed upon hearing _that_ voice again, barking orders from below. Deciding she’d already come this far she kept moving, doing her best to stay quiet while navigating away. Despite moving it sounded like he was still so close, as if he was tracking her. That could be the case but she didn’t want to think about it, couldn’t. Her insides burned, revolting over what was going on, which made her momentum sluggish, coordination faltering.

Too soon she could barely scrabble forward, getting stuck at a turn, heart pounding in warning and telling her to stop moving. She did, only because she was sure she’d puke if she dared move another inch. Would she though? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten but whatever it was it hadn’t been very—

Her head sank to the bottom, skin incredibly hot on the cool metal, everything else forgotten. The tunnel spun and she spun with it, innards rejecting themselves. What she wanted to do was curl up to hold everything together. As it stood she was still stuck, quivering as pain wracked over her body. Lying still as possible her eyes shut, holding her breath and trying to let it pass.

It wasn’t working, rejection unwavering. It wouldn’t go away, angrily growing, bubbling within her until she was humming through gritted teeth. If she could outlast it everything would be fine. She needed to hold on.

It wasn’t going to get better though, even she recognized that. Eyes shut tight she threw one hand forward, clawing around the corner. This was too claustrophobic. She needed out, needed to rotate as she pleased. What a stupid idea. She should’ve waited for another opportunity. This one was stupid, even she admitted it.

But she wasn’t going back, not willingly. Oh no, there was no way she’d cooperate when none of this was consensual. They could find her corpse up here if that’s what it took. She wasn’t coming down.

She didn’t know how, anyway.

Inch by inch she pulled forward, sickness controlling how quickly she slid. By the time her near-numb fingers hit a wall she was crying, cursing under her breath. It was a dead end. Feeling around she found a grate but didn’t have the strength to push on it. Backing out wasn’t an option, not yet anyway. Pacing herself she curled her fingers on the vent’s edge, head down once more, eyelids fluttering manically.

_Okay, just sit tight_ , she told herself. _Hold still until this passes, then you can figure something out_. _You always do. Always. Come on, keep breathing_. If she could access her comm she’d play some motivational music, anything to hold on.

Teetering on consciousness her fingers lost their hold, the vent disappearing. She could feel it but didn’t bother responding. There wasn’t enough energy left and all that remained wanted to help her twitch.

Her wrists were yanked forward, body going taut as it was dragged along. She couldn’t help whining, terrified this was the end. Fighting back too late she spilled out of the vent, dropping into something suffocatingly warm. The second she was cradled everything intensified, pain exploding in her body, forcing convulsions across her limbs. Her wiggling didn’t help but she was beyond thinking, needing to do something, anything, to stop the fire.

“—so much more trouble than this is worth.”

That was him. Shivering, she tried focusing on Coram’s face, his chest hovering over her. This of course made things so much worse and she had to push against him. He held tight, face unreadably terse. Aim’s face replaced his, much closer and clearly fuming. Pressure was placed on her neck, then a pinch. Her body seized up too quickly. She had no choice but to go still.

“Don’t you dare say that again, _you’re_ the one who fucked up.”

Her body was jostled slightly. “I didn’t—”

“Stop talking, right now. You’re in _so much_ trouble. You can’t just steal people!”

“I didn’t!” he insisted and suddenly they were moving, her panicked moans intensifying. Paz was still limp, whatever the doctor gave her too effective to keep fighting. “You know how we are, she’s lying.”

Her thoughts must’ve gone hazy because she could swear he just said she was the one lying. Aim seemed just as surprised, words quick and intense and jumbled in Paz’s ear.

“—didn’t even know your name!”

“Tch, I told her it like five times. Trust me, she’s lying.”

“Coram.”

They stopped. Fire still ripping through her belly Paz took in sharp, small breaths, faith wavering. A cool hand rested over her eyes. “Look at her. Tell me what you did or I’m not helping with this. Have fun explaining why we’ve got to clean the vents. People who _want_ help generally _accept_ it.”

There was a sigh, and they were moving again. Heart roaring in her ears Paz couldn’t help the slurs escaping her mouth, frantically telling herself to breathe. Above her there was more quiet. She still wanted to push away but couldn’t, too weak, too drugged.

“Can you fix this?” he wanted to know, voice wavering behind her racing heart. Aim’s indignant grunt indicated she likely could. “Okay. Just—let’s do that, and I’ll talk to her once she’s up. I will, I swear. I’ll make it work.”

“You better,” the doctor seethed. “Fucking A…I did _not_ sign up for this shit, bud. Fix it or we go home.”

“Aim—”

“No, I mean it!”

Their voices faded but she knew they were still arguing. Her body floated in someone’s arms, easily carried back to presumably the place she just exited. Ugh, what a waste of an escape.

_I mean it_. She’d told Sam that once, promised she’d always come back. _I mean it_. He always promised he’d stay until Val let them go. _I mean it_. One day they’d be free together, maybe. But now…she couldn’t do that if she was dead. She’d come back, she had to. She meant it.


	9. Ch 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coram lays down the law, and of course Paz isn't happy about it. Side note, if I'm ever known for anything in this world then I would like it to be for 'Congratu-fucking-lations' lol.

She woke up in essentially the same way as when she was first stolen, back on the table but this time restrained with cuffs on both wrists. Everything was pleasantly numb this time and there were no tubes so it was an improvement. No blood, either. Great.

All of this meant she had the ability to protest her position so she did, arms flexing in an attempt to break free. It didn’t work but she was blessedly alone in her room, more than ready to try a secondary escape.

Pulling from the table she sat up though it was highly uncomfortable, her body too numb to stay upright. She did her best regardless, angrily stretching away from the cuffs tightly secured to the table. This was such bullshit.

“You got this,” she coached herself, eyes darting around the room in search of anything to get her out, weak muscles still straining to pull both wrists free. The chair was gone, vent covered, and she was sure they weren’t stupid enough to leave the door unlocked. “You’ve been through worse, I think. Yeah, you have—this is easy. Just…think. Come on, think.”

“You always talk to yourself?” Coram asked before the door even slid all the way open, timing impeccable. Quickly stepping in he headed right for her. Paz shut up, head lowering. He wasn’t who she wanted to see. She yanked at the cuffs harder, wishing they weren’t so tight. It was like they knew she’d try slipping out.

Since she wasn’t talking he turned away, looking over a few monitors and letting her struggle. She grew sick of it fast, giving up and flopping back down with a sigh.

“Happy?” she asked, eyes shut in annoyance.

“Not particularly,” came his quick reply, presence resuming at her side. She didn’t want to acknowledge him, refusing to look. “It’s been a month since I’ve been in Federal space, I’m burning through credits like they’re worthless, and I keep getting complaints about the stench coming from the vents. Dunno, could be better.”

Her eyes rolled irreverently. “Poor baby. I feel _so_ fucking bad for you.”

“You should,” he insisted, tone bitter. “This is mostly because of you.”

Eyelids snapping open she glared, righting herself and back to struggling. It didn’t even hurt this time around—either she was on the mend or they had some wicked painkillers. “Uh, false. This is _your_ fault, not mine. I don’t even know what’s going on or who you are so—”

“Bullshit,” he offensively asserted, using both hands to lean on the table. She knew he wouldn’t if she weren’t restrained. “You know me.”

Paz stared at his face, unwavering. “Nope.”

His gaze narrowed. “You expect—how often do you use lotus?”

Was that any of this business? Glancing away Paz shrugged, wishing she had some right now. “Clearly not enough.”

“Funny,” he quipped, remaining uncomfortably close. Licking her lips she looked down at her lap. At least she was clean now.

“I thought you were, too. Guess I was wrong.”

“I can be very funny,” he corrected, mouth twitching. “You haven’t seen me—”

“None of this is funny!” she suddenly shouted, words loud as they echoed off the walls. Even he stepped back, cringing. “You fucking tracked me to my ship, congratu-fucking-lations. Now take me back or I guarantee you’re gonna have a bigger mess on your hands than the fucking vents.”

The room went quiet, Coram raising a hand to comb through short hair. He exhaled heavily, glancing over her to another monitor. “Can’t do that, sorry.”

“Then we’ve got nothing to talk about,” she huffed, earning a blanch from him.

“Topaz, you don’t have a—”

“Bye.”

“I’m not—”

“ _Bye_.”

Shutting up he stared at her a second before swiveling around, exiting and slamming the door behind him. Pleased he was pissed she looked down again at her hands, wondering how hard it’d be to contort her bones until they fit through the cuffs. Her peace didn’t last long; Coram returned several minutes later with a steeled look. Honestly she was surprised he came back so soon. She didn’t pay him any attention though, focusing on her bonds.

“Look, I don’t like this either but I need you, okay? You’re Hylerian.”

Ah yes, the Hylerian excuse. Snorting bitterly she pulled one arm back hard as she could, bones aching. He wasn’t stopping her so why not keep going? “Wow, I am? Damn, I never knew.”

“You know what I mean,” he talked over her, suddenly very close to the table so she couldn’t ignore him, gaze flickering dangerously. “You have your senses.”

“You seem to do well on your own,” she bitterly summarized, inching back from where he stood, caught off guard. He sure did know how to be intense. “Chasing me, jumping off crates, not breaking your neck—”

“You have a face no one really knows,” he retorted, those blue eyes somehow darkening. Reaching up, a hand slid down his neck, just below the ear. Pausing, she eyeballed him. It was like he expected her to get something out of this. He wasn’t going to get what he wanted, not from her.

“I literally don’t know who you are.”

Uttering a humorless laugh he looked away, head shaking. “Wish you were the authorities, then. It’d make my life easier.”

“Dude,” she started, chest puffing up, “you’re just some random hookup, alright? Apparently my judgment was super off so—sorry about that. Didn’t fucking think I was gonna be kidnapped over it.”

He twisted with a smirk, back against the table. “Don’t blame you. It’s in your nature.”

“Like it’s in yours to be a dick,” she murmured, glowering at her thighs. This was impossible. Talking to him was pointless and it didn’t matter he had a nice body. He was still a creep. “Look, whatever you want you’re not getting it from me. Feel free to float me or whatever it is you do but I’m not…not doing anything for you.”

One hand still on his neck he placed the other on a hip. “Uh, you’re gonna help.”

“Uh, you’re gonna help,” she mocked in his lower tone, sneering and yanking at her wrists one more time. “Tch, you picked the wrong Hylerian. Can’t you just buy one?”

“No,” he snapped, words flat. “I don’t _buy_ Hylerians. I liberate them.”

“I don’t _feel_ very liberated right now,” she exclaimed, wanting to laugh over how ridiculous that sounded. But…that did sound weird coming from some random jerk, right? Unsure of herself she quieted down, glancing his way, something about him suddenly off. When he turned she realized what it was, immediately wrenching at her cuffs with renewed desperation.

His mods were gone, replaced with normal…Hylerian features, the sharp face and flat nose a dead giveaway. Near-blackish brown hair framed that tan face and wide eyes, now a dim blue, followed her suddenly panicked movements, and she was definitely panicking. She knew him, and she was sure she’d die in his care.

_That_ Coram. It made a lot more sense now. She’d seen his face all over the vids before, everyone had. This particular Hylerian was the poster boy for being an evil villain in a bad vid. He was responsible for a lot of incidents, a lot of deaths and too many destructive wrecks to count. Yep, she’d be dead here soon even if he wasn’t the one who made it happen himself. He attracted violence.

The Nav called him a Hylerian terrorist: everyone else just called him the worst pirate Andromeda currently had. Either way, she didn’t want to breathe the same air as him.

“Oh no,” she stammered, desperate to get away, rocking on the table as far as she could from him. “Not you. Not fucking you—I don’t want _anything_ to do with you.”

He was laughing now, her panic hilarious. “Thought you didn’t know me.”

“Not that face!” she spat, fully ignoring his real figure. She couldn’t believe—couldn’t believe she hooked up with him. “Fuck! Get the fuck away from me!”

“Relax.” As if to assure her his mods restarted, normal features returning as if they never left. It didn’t help, not when she knew what was behind them. “You’re not on my list. I would’ve bought you but your captain never responded to my requests.”

“Uh, with good reason,” she remarked, mind in a spiral now, still jerking back. “You floated half a fucking cruiser last year!”

He didn’t deny it, choosing to cross his arms instead. “I’m not in the business of killing my own kind. Topaz, I need your cooperation for about two months, maybe three. That’s it. Help me and I’ll get you out of your slavedriver’s hands.”

Oh no, she wasn’t having any of this, not today. Leaning as far from him as she could she seethed.

“I’m not a slave.”

His snort of contempt was irritating. “Not anymore—we removed your brand. You’re welcome.”

“That was for Val,” she exclaimed, lower lip quivering, that horrible sensation of being trapped crashing down on her. “That was so she could protect me! Coram, I’m not joking—I’m not helping you. I can’t.”

The room went quiet once more, the man in question rounding to the table’s front. His thumb ran along the edge, lips pursed. “Do you want to see Sam again? Is that it?”

Still as death, Paz’s fear faded. If he wanted to play that he wouldn’t get far. She looked up, jaw tight. “Better kill me right now. You even touch him and not only will I not help but I’ll skin you alive. Believe me, I’ll find a way.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to him,” he lightly clarified, though it wasn’t explained further. Glancing up, his blue eyes studied her, unnerving her. “That’s not my interest. But…if you want to go back to your owner then I need your cooperation. I will more than compensate Val for her time.”

“You could’ve negotiated that with her,” she reproached, unable to return his intense gaze. “You didn’t need to…do all this.”

“She’d never agree,” he answered, and she knew it was true. “She won’t even speak to me. But…fact of the matter is I still need you. She’s done such a good job hiding you I almost thought you were dead. Authorities don’t know your face like mine. I need someone who’s just a good little slave, ye? Someone who likes a challenge, who aims to please.”

The way he said it made her feel dirty but she relaxed on the table, aware he was…still right. He’d just described her. She wasn’t a slave, not like that. Val didn’t use her that way, but the things he said…it was like he knew her. Like he had the same thoughts.

He’d still kidnapped her. She’d never forget about that. But…no, no she couldn’t do this. Even Val wouldn’t approve no matter the price.

“I won’t kill for you,” she murmured, fingers curling loosely to her palm. “Won’t be one of your stupid freedom fighters or whatever you call yourselves.”

“No, of course not,” he leveled, voice neutral, trying to be fair, successfully making her think. “No, I want what you do best, that’s it. Heard you can be quite the thief when you feel like it. _That’s_ what I need you for.”

Considering his words she shifted her knees together, situation sinking in. They wouldn’t let her go, that much she knew. He was dangling her return to the Osiris in exchange for stealing some shit. That was…almost too easy. There had to be a catch. But if he was willing to send her back once she did as he asked, as long as he guaranteed compensation for Val, it might…

Might not be that bad. She really did enjoy a challenge. If he needed her help stealing something then it must’ve been pretty damn bad, too. But he apparently enjoyed killing people even if he said he wouldn’t kill her. She’d _seen_ his work before, knew he was capable of some bad shit, too many people floated by him and his crew for the sake of some distorted sense of revenge. Involving herself in their affairs would only end poorly, even she wasn’t stupid enough to think otherwise, especially for Val if her property was caught in his possession.

Still…if all he needed was something stolen, there was a chance she could use that to her advantage. Jaw still tight she relented a bit, brilliant eyes turning to meet his.

“What do you need?”


	10. Ch 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paz is forced to attend a meeting about what she'll be doing. Literally no one's happy about this, esp not the guy who summoned her.

Two months.

That was all Coram said he needed but the more she thought about it the more she realized it wasn’t a good estimate. She only agreed because he promised her crew back afterward.

Just two months and a couple ancient artifacts to grab. She could do that. It didn’t even sound difficult.

Stewing on this she lounged in the rec area, bored to death as the blackness of space slowly swept by. It was her second day allowed out of her medical prison and she was finally able to wander the Lakai, Coram’s ship. Every moment unfortunately had been ridiculously mundane. He ran a crew of sixty odd people on here, the majority of them Hylerian and they were all just as stuck up as Val told her they were.

Aim was nice, but not Hylerian. She pushed Paz from on the mend to…refurbished. While she monitored her progress she explained a good amount, too, so Paz didn’t feel completely stupid. She’d even taken her to her new quarters, giving her a quick tour of what was to be her temporary home on the way. A previously abandoned ship in a dying star system, the Lakai was essentially a haven for ‘refugees’ of various Hylerian backgrounds. Some were previously slaves while others actually lived on Hyleris prior to it being sucked dry (like Coram). The majority were also like Coram in that they had mods masking their appearances, making her feel out of place even among her own kind.

Thus, so far she wasn’t enthused about being here.

She was given a whole bunch of reading material about what to do on board but so far hadn’t read it, and the briefing she was currently supposed to be at regarding some background and what Coram had in mind for her didn’t sound enticing, either. Normally she was always the first to volunteer to do things when bored but nope, not this time. They couldn’t trick her. She was only here so she could eventually return to the Osiris. Whatever else they needed they’d have to drag out of her.

Besides, staring out into the black void matched how she felt and wanted that known while here. No sir, Coram was not going to have a good time with her aboard.

“Hey.”

Ugh. Head tilting she wasn’t pleased to find Reeser behind her, though this was quickly replaced with rage. Up on her feet in an instant she jabbed a finger his way, startling him. Though he had no mods she could see he looked different, more concerned this time but definitely a part of the Lakai team in the dark colors she’d seen others wearing with his ruddy auburn hair tucked beneath a cap. He could’t be Hylerian; the way he held himself was more like how Aim did. The ones who were…they walked about as if they owned the air and ground their feet touched.

He definitely didn’t show those asshole signs and he was also smart enough to understand her anger, quickly backpedalling, hands up in surrender. It didn’t stop her from snarling.

“You!”

“I would like to apologize and take this moment to put all the blame on my captain,” he gushed, boots scuffing on metal. Paz didn’t stop, rounding the couch and following him as he backed into the Lakai’s main hall. “He’s the one who wanted to do that, not me. I was pretty sure it was a bad idea soon as I walked up, I swear.”

“I could be in my own bed right now,” she seethed, letting him walk into a nook past the door, her index finger meeting his chest. “I could be with _my_ crew, _my_ people but no, instead I’m here. Because of you!”

“Ye, not gonna argue with that,” he tightly agreed, up on his tiptoes in concern. “You are completely right and I am all kinds of sorry. Wouldn’t have done it whatsoever had I known this was where it’d end up.”

Sure he wouldn’t. Still growling Paz relented, rocking back on her heels and pouting. “What do you want?”

“I was told to fetch you,” he calmly explained, relief washing over his features. “Something about a meeting.”

Ire crashing, Paz huffed, studying his nervous frame. He was truly nervous, something she was secretly flattered by. Despite what she was, very few people were intimidated by her. Hands swinging at her sides she shrugged and turned, making for the rec area once more. Nobody had graced it in hours, likely because she was in there.

“Whatever,” she told him, pained by the idea of having to sit anywhere and listen to someone explain old, boring things. “I’m good. I’ll stay here, and whenever we get to who knows where— _then_ I’ll get whatever information I need. Thanks.”

She hadn’t even flopped back down before his footsteps followed, uttering things under his breath she couldn’t understand. She couldn’t understand some of the Hylerians she’d seen, either. Without her comm she was basically stuck to the common tongue (and a few Triad curses here and there) and the Hylerians…yeah, they definitely spoke something she didn’t. This was different, however, though she didn’t bring it up. That would show interest and she obviously couldn’t exhibit that.

“Look, the captain asked for your attendance,” he quickly explained, decipherable words near apologetic. “He thinks you’d benefit from some background and—”

“I’m not a member of your crew,” Paz interrupted, needing to ensure that was a known fact. “I’m here for whatever he said he needed me for, that’s it. No background, no meetings. Thanks.”

“You’re pretty focused on that,” he mumbled, sighing. Hip against the couch he looked past her to the stars, admiring the view. “I like that. I’ll tell him. Course, he’s pretty pissy when he doesn’t get his way but you’re all the same breed. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Head rolling back Paz pursed her lips. If he was trying to entice her to do something he wasn’t doing a very good job. “Listen here, Reeser—”

“It’s Rhys,” he clarified, cheeks dusted red a moment. “Reeser is for my friends.”

Her shoulders squared, convictions digging in. “Listen here, _Rhys_ : I don’t care. I’m here so I can go home, that’s it. Now if you don’t mind I’ve got a lot of things to do that have nothing to do with meetings and all that other bullshit.”

He started to nod but paused, glancing around the room. “Like…?”

“What’d you do to my friend after I left?” Paz wondered, immediately switching subjects. Of course there was nothing to do here. She knew it, he knew it, the whole damn ship did. He had trouble thinking about her question, the particular moment long ago for him.

“Wh—ah, nothing? Told them to behave and walked out. Then your captain let loose hell and…ah, it was a mess. But! I did nothing to your friend. No, no, she was having a wonderful time punching my mate in the face last I saw.”

“Not her,” Paz growled, irritably combing fingers through her hair, one foot shaking restlessly. She needed something to do, but it wasn’t going to be with Rhys or Coram or anyone else. “The guy. The one who made all the shit you wanted to buy.”

“Oh, him?” Rubbing the back of his neck Rhys shrugged. “Dunno. He’d picked up some equipment and was tossing it around, one of my mates—”

He stopped, something about her eye twitching indicating he did know. “Um. I have no idea, honest.”

“You don’t know?” she hissed, each word sharp. “Oh, you’d better come up with a different answer or—”

Bolting before she could finish he pushed around her, disappearing down the corridor. Paz followed because this was something interesting (finally!), shouting epithets the entire way. Very few people tried stopping her, probably a good thing in their case, and the ones who did were shoved out of the way without a second thought. She managed cornering him at an arterial but was forced to the ground by a few Hylerian men, apparently the only thing she couldn’t win against, and after that she was hauled off to Coram’s meeting room, Rhys in tow.

The captain didn’t look happy, making that everyone’s sentiment cramped inside the little office. Paz and Rhys sat opposite his desk, the latter making a show of wiping blood from his face (that was his fault, not hers), and Paz slumped in her chair, arms tightly crossed, pretending Rhys didn’t exist. Standing just behind Coram’s chair was another Hylerian, though there’d been no introduction for him.

Gaze flickering between the two of them Coram leaned both elbows on the desk, whistling. “Not how I imagined this going.” Neither troublemaker said anything so he continued. “Rules on my ship include no physical altercations. I know you’d really like to return to your master, Topaz, so follow that. Please.”

He really sucked. She wished she’d never met him. Doubling down, her gaze hit the floor. She pretended he wasn’t talking to her.

“Right, this’ll be productive,” he muttered, pushing back and glancing at his shadow. “Desh, where should we start?”

“Should’ve started half an hour ago,” the other replied, rambling on about statistics and other things she didn’t care about. She side-eyed Coram’s shadow, wondering where this one came from. Suddenly they were both looking at her, waiting for some kind of response and she lowered her shoulders, sighing.

“What?”

“What do you know about Hyleris?” Coram repeated himself, clearly regretting his decisions. Good. She hoped he did. Eyes studying the ceiling she shrugged.

“It’s a planet.”

At least Rhys snorted before he could stop himself. The other two weren’t so amused. Giving in a little Paz elaborated.

“Pretty sure my parents were from there, or relatives…whatever. I’ve never been.”

“Most of us haven’t,” Coram lightly replied, and she lowered her brows. She’d heard stories about him.

“You have. You were born there.”

He moved on without addressing that. “It’s no longer hospitable. You know about that?”

Vaguely. Val didn’t give her much information on it and she never needed to know more than people, apparently ones like him, viewed her as servants to more advanced classes. Why he of all people kept bringing up the slavery part was a bit annoying in her opinion.

“People lived there,” she warily informed him, lip curling. “Now they don’t. Now they live with others.”

“So you know nothing, then,” he concluded, glare matching hers. Sliding in his chair he rubbed a temple. “Great. You were never curious or anything?”

If it didn’t help with her work she was never interested. Crossing her ankles Paz shrugged again. It seemed like her best answer so far. “Not really. I’ve only met maybe, two others in my life. Can’t imagine there’s much to learn about.”

While both Coram and Desh groaned Rhys’s head rolled towards her, mildly amused. “I really can’t tell if you’re an idiot or a savant. You do know why you’ve never met that many, right?”

“They’re…dead?” she guessed, aware of that at least. “Look, I’m not an expert, alright? Nobody taught me this shit and it never came up on the Osiris. Sorry.”

“My family’s dead,” Coram explained, voice low. “Every Hylerian’s on this ship is dead, yours included. By those who enslave you.”

Ah, so this was probably a sensitive subject. Picking at her given clothes Paz toned it down. A little. “Sorry…about that.” A thought then occurred, making her squint. She’d been under the impression her parents just couldn’t have her. That wasn’t so hard to believe. People did buy and sell younger ones under the impression they’d have more loyalty. “How do you know mine are?”

Coram stared back, words escaping him. He looked to Desh before putting something coherent together. “Ah, there’s not many of us left. We try keeping track when one of our own dies.”

“But you thought I might already be dead,” she pointed out, doubt growing.

“Your owner did a fantastic job keeping you hidden,” he retorted, something she couldn’t really believe. Val let her out into open space all the time. She’d been out there, flying around looting and selling lotus for at least a decade on her own. The number of times she’d been in custody alone should’ve indicated Val did _not_ do a good job with that.

Her eyes narrowed even more. “I don’t…think you have the right person.”

Mumbling something in the dialect she didn’t understand both he and Desh had a quick, muffled conversation to themselves. To her right Rhys’s chest rose in a bored inhale. With nothing better to do than antagonize him she caught his attention with a nod.

“This is rude. They want to talk but I can’t even understand them. Is that not rude?”

All conversation ceased, Rhys letting out a slight guffaw first. He turned to face her fully.

“You don’t—but you’re Hylerian.”

“Ye, well, my comm’s gone so whatever this is I don’t get,” she sullenly answered. Coram stared as if offended.

“You don’t know your own language?”

It was like they didn’t hear the part where she knew nothing. “I _just_ told you—”

“Did Val even tell you that you were Hylerian or did you figure that out on your own?” he continued, words sharp. Feeling like nothing she said would please him Paz lowered her chin. She…did figure it out on her own but it was never a big deal. She thought it was more of a cosmetic thing than anything else. Fiddling with her shirt hem some more she gave her most trusted answer: the shrug.

“Um…ye.”

“You really want to go back to someone who won’t tell you who— _what_ you are?” he demanded, clearly angry about this. “You want to work for someone who had a hand in murdering your own family?”

That was too far. Up on her feet in an instant her hands slammed down upon his desk. “That’s my captain you’re talking about. You wanna keep bitching go ahead but I guarantee you’ll pay for it.”

“Do you want to go back or not?” he threatened, voice equally vicious but she was already shaking her head.

“I don’t care, not if you’re gonna insult _my_ captain.”

Thoughtful a moment, a smirk broke out across his face next. “Really? We just saved your life—”

“She has, too,” she interrupted, so ready to reach out and throttle him. “You want my help you shut your fucking mouth. If not I guess you can pull this shit off on your own. Find someone else.”

He wasn’t intimidated but he did lean back to speak with Desh, their words private once more. Glancing behind her Paz angrily pouted at Rhys.

“You know what they’re saying?”

He nodded with a wince, not keen on translating. The longer she stared the easier he broke, luckily. “Um…your loyalty. They’re really…impressed.”

“Rhys!” The captain’s snap wasn’t as sharp as before.

“What?” Rhys’s skin flushed, but Paz decided he was alright. Least he was smart enough to tell her what she wanted. Her head whipped back to the other two.

“You don’t get my loyalty,” she snipped, pushing back. “I’ll find what you want but that’s it.”

“We’ll see,” Coram murmured, those bright blue eyes roving down her body. Suddenly she felt like she did a week ago, vulnerable and exposed to strangers. At least her insides weren’t in danger of falling out. He’d been nicer then, too, mostly out of a need to calm her down. Trying to work that angle here wasn’t working.

Sitting back down she twisted to eye the door. “Just…get on with whatever you wanted to talk about. You’re wasting your time otherwise.”

“Can I?” he asked, clearly mocking her. He acted like she was the weird one for not enjoying this.

“You’re the psycho captain, not me,” she quipped, gaze lowering to the floor. “Have at it.”

He grinned almost affectionately at the title. “Right. So, you think my crew’s a murderous bunch of thieves. That’s fair enough but trust me, we have our reasons. Hyleris is indeed a planet like you so kindly explained, the one our kind evolved from. You know of the Great Migration? No? Course not. Look, all humans originate from a single planet—Terra. Several thousand years ago they deserted Terra, migrated beyond their own galaxy. Some ships found habitable places, others didn’t, and one of them had a critical failure, lost contact and power and was sucked into Hyleris’s orbit.”

“Eventually it crashed and those who survived are our ancestors. Hyleris wasn’t really a habitable world—they adapted to it, hence our traits. Unable to find them the rest of humanity moved on while we…essentially devolved to our primal behaviors. This is why we’re treated like a sub-class. When we _were_ found about ninety years ago we were considered primitive, lucky little beings living on a rock that had too many untapped resources to let us stay there.”

“Our ancestors were gathered up and introduced to humanity as workers because we didn’t know any better. Those who were able to stay on the planet hid within its mountains until those were mined clean. We were stripped of our home, our independence, and our basic human rights. Topaz, we used to be fifty-nine million strong prior to reintroduction. In less than a hundred years we’re down to a little over six hundred. How do you think that happens?”

He was waiting for a reason. In truth Paz had barely listened, thoughts still focused on Terra. Seriously, none of this was familiar. “How?”

“Most people say it was disease,” he growled, words hard. “But…as you’ve demonstrated it’s difficult for us to get sick or hurt, courtesy of our ancestor’s time in polluted, radiated environments. No, in a hundred years we’ve been worked to death, used for sport, and systematically killed off due to our ‘reckless’ traits. Humanity brought us back with no intention of assimilation despite our biological similarity, but rather to use as hired help. And when we’re not considered useful we’re being exterminated, simply because we’ve survived when we should not have.”

Sounded a bit like everyone was jealous. Mouth a thin line, Paz thought it over. Judging by the look on his face she knew she should be pissed or enlightened or… _something_ , at least, but this wasn’t surprising to hear. Given what _he_ did of course the rest of humanity didn’t like them.

Lip curling in disgust, she couldn’t help offering some advice. “They might be nicer if you weren’t out there murdering them. I’ve never had any issues—everyone usually likes me.”

“Because you’re broken,” Desh interrupted before she and Coram got into it again. “You’re strong—you have a plethora of advantages over others yet you only use them when asked. There’s no reason you should be under anyone’s orders. _You_ should be your own master, not the one who makes you obey. _They_ have forced you, a superior being, into their cages. This is not the path we were meant to take.”

That was such a load of propaganda bullshit she almost laughed but her thoughts turned to Sam. Val’s hold on her were tied to him. She fought Val for years, only stopping to keep Sam from harm. It made everyone happier, a more coherent crew. Desh was right. Val was who she answered to, the only one. Because…she had to.

They were trying to get in her head. She hated it was working but couldn’t remove her dedication to Val. Val took care of her, always had. She _was_ her family.

“Topaz.”

Quickly wiping at wet eyes she focused on the desktop, legs bouncing anxiously. It was clear Coram was staring so she didn’t need to look.

“You okay?”

“Ye.”

“Not all of them are awful,” he concluded, Rhys’s sniff of approval echoing in the background. “You’ve…clearly found a good group given your loyalty, but that’s not the case for the majority of us. Besides, I heard you. I know you’re overworked; you complained about it when we met.”

“I didn’t mean it,” she roughly answered, unsure of herself and shifting in her chair. Was that why he took her? Because she’d bitched? Fuck, she couldn’t even remember what exactly she said. She just recalled he had a nice cock which was good enough for her.

“They let you have unlimited access to lotus,” he emphasized, furthering his point. “That dulls your senses, you know that. Most Hylerians aren’t given it for that specific purpose—it defeats their talents. No one in their right mind would give you that shit unless they’re trying to keep you compliant.”

This was…true, but she’d never admit it. Most of the time lotus fell in her lap. She’d never really demanded it, always felt better off it. She just…took it because they encouraged it. Val encouraged it, had done so since she was a teenager. Sometimes it was the only thing that kept them from getting in a physical altercation.

“Not true,” she denied, shaking her head. She couldn’t shake the feeling they were trying to turn her against Val. “Nah, that was me. I get…get bored. I’m the one who takes it, not them. And it’s not like I have a problem.”

“Relax,” Coram insisted, fingers drumming on the desk. “I don’t care if you’re a lotus eater. I’m just telling you the facts. You’ll go back to that mess soon enough, if that’s what you want.”

If Sam was still aboard the Osiris then definitely. She plowed ahead, anxious all the sudden. “Alright, so Hyleris is dead, our people are dead, and you…ah, I guess, scour the galaxy looking for revenge or whatever. What does this have to do with what you want me to find?”

“Lots,” Rhys spoke while rubbing his head, a headache coming on. “Gods, even I saw that coming.”

“And why do you have _him_ in here if everyone else sucks?” she added, glaring his way. Coram tried to keep a straight face, Desh apparently the only one who didn’t find that ironic.

“Not _all_ ,” the captain clarified, nodding at Rhys’s suddenly proud face. “He’s a fantastic pilot. Best I could find.”

“He’s not flying right now,” she pointed out. To her right the pilot in question exhaled.

“Copilots, kid. Got a couple of them. Plus, they thought you’d be receptive to me.”

Both of them snorted over the notion.

“The point in telling you all this,” Coram impatiently continued, “is because the things I need you to find are Hylerian. Two of three are in Federation space and the other is on Hyleris where…I am not allowed. These are sacred objects to our people and with the way things are going we’re not gonna have a culture or people left soon. Let us have what’s rightfully ours prior to our extinction.”

Staring at him, Paz’s brow lowered. That…sounded a lot like a treasure hunt and that was it. “Um…why do you need me, again?”

He was keeping himself in check, jaw ticking but offering a calm response regardless. “You said yourself you want nothing to do with me and my crew. Every quadrant in the Federation knows my crew, mods or no mods. You? Not so much. You can return to registered colonies. You can walk into towns and the like. You can get them without making a scene.”

“What if you hadn’t run into me?” she inquired, still skeptical, wondering why this needed to be done now. Was there a time limit on these things or something? Beyond that, had he ever _seen_ her rap sheet? She did not _do_ things quietly.

“I had other choices,” he loftily answered, “but you were easiest. Did the same routes, frequented the same quadrants.”

In other words he knew she’d go to that tavern at some point. Spine tingling in dismay she offered a reproachful glare. “You planned this out.”

“Gods, don’t think about it like that,” Rhys suggested in disgust, hands working as he spoke. “It’s a lot less traumatizing that way. Course they planned it out—may I? Look, pretend they’d scouted you for something good. Imagine they—”

“I let you fuck me,” Paz rattled over him, eyes baring down on Coram. It was his turn to look away, uncomfortable with that bit. “I trusted you—you’re the one who said to be careful out there.”

“Ye, well, you weren’t very careful,” he remarked, the room going silent. Fuming, Paz gave herself a moment to think. Then she jabbed a finger at his desk, serious.

“I don’t care what the fuck these things are or what they have to do with your culture. Just send me back to Valonce they’re collected, that’s it.”

“Fair enough,” Desh agreed for Coram, who still could’t look at her. She took notice, deciding he was a coward.

“And you’d better hope Sam’s still alive by the time I get back,” she swore, unsure how much clearer she could be about that stipulation. “If he’s not I will skin you, that’s all I can promise.”

“Why would your crew not be alive?” he wanted to know, suddenly curious. That wasn’t his business however so Paz rose, beckoning for Rhys.

“You—let’s go. Show me where the food and booze is.”

“Gladly,” he answered, hopping up, ready to be out of there. “Although, there’s no booze.”

“Uh, why?”

“Topaz!” She ignored the captain now, pushing through the door with Rhys at her heels. He was alright, she decided. Better than the Hylerians. Least she understood him.

“There’s no—uh, how do any of you get along?” she needed to know.

“No idea,” her new buddy replied, shrugging helplessly at the men they were leaving behind.

Soon as the door slid shut both Coram and Desh relaxed. Sliding to the floor Desh laughed humorlessly.

“She’s an idiot— _we’re_ idiots thinking this would work.”

“It will,” Coram assured him, face unreadable. Looking to where Paz sat he was stuck in his own thoughts. “Give it some time. Get her some whiskey, too.”

Desh eyed him. “No booze on board. That’s your rule.”

The other’s shoulders lowered, determined to push through this. “She’s our guest, Desh, not a crew member. Gotta suck up the old fashioned way.”


	11. Ch 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a semi-coerced attempt to gather information, Reeser gets Paz drunk. She's the dramatic kind of drunk.

Rhys, or Reeser as she was now allowed to call him once more, was alright. They got off to a rocky start but all things considered they had a lot in common. He had a short attention span, as did she. She could plough through enough food to feed a small family and he…couldn’t, but didn’t mind eating, so she took to eating with him in the Lakai’s small cafeteria. They both understood the nuances of Federation culture, both growing up there and having all kinds of media-related things to discuss with one another.

The best part however was his position. As primary pilot he dictated who could enter the cockpit; thus, she spent the majority of her time in there, making the Lakai that much less horrible. Lonyn never let her in the Osiris’s cockpit; she’d only seen the insides of her tiny rig. The Lakai’s was huge, it’s own sector of the ship complete with a bridge and everything. Reeser did split the piloting responsibility between two other people, both Hylerian, Andee and Katerina. They didn’t like Paz but tolerated her well enough, just enough to let her stay in the cockpit with Reeser, at least when they weren’t busy.

Like on off hours. She enjoyed watching the blackness of space without any obstructions up there. It was weird; she got bored too easily but never with space. Space was…different, always changing and never ending.

It’d be so much better with lotus but the Lakai had a no-fun policy: no alcohol, no drugs, and no sugar. Apparently she’d been living her life entirely too recklessly, but per Reeser this was to increase focus. Allegedly, the things used to entertain in the Federation were what dulled their senses.

Which was, of course, the stupidest reason to not let her have anything.

“I really don’t know how you manage,” she grumbled to him during off hours, lounging in a copilot’s seat and eating grapes, the sweetest thing on board. Beside her Reeser harrumphed, half distracted watching a cluster of far-off stars up ahead.

“It’s a bit like prison,” he compared, glancing her way. “Except it pays well.”

It better. He was stuck on a ship with a bunch of Hylerians. Although…grinning, she couldn’t help asking about his personal life.

“You get any tail around here?”

“Hah, hah,” he uttered, sneering. “You think you’re so funny. What do you think?”

“Yes?” she guessed, putting herself in other Hylerian’s shoes, imagining how boring it had to get on the Lakai without anything to do. Truly, she had no idea what any of them did to stay sane. Sex seemed like the next obvious choice. Seeing him blanch however she had no idea why he hadn’t. “Tch, why not? You’re cute enough. I’d go for you if I was stuck here.”

“Please don’t even try,” he groaned, shuddering and earning a giggle from her. “No offense but you’re not my type. You’re too…”

“Too Hylerian?” she prompted, beaming. Another grape popped into her mouth while he pulled a mask of pure disgust, eliciting more laughter from her. “Knew it, you’re sick of them.”

“How would you know?” he demanded, eyes ahead, only partially paying attention while several monitors in front of them lit up. Everything was foreign to her but he clearly knew what it all meant. “You said yourself, you know none.”

“Ye,” she admitted, “but that’s how most people feel about me. I’m too intense, I guess. Good for a mission or a drink but nothing long term. I imagine these guys are all the same, only more…disciplined? I dunno.”

Thinking it over a moment he did have to agree. “You are intense. _They_ are intense.”

“But you like me,” she sang, picking more grapes off their stem. They were almost gone, and with them, the last of her available sources for sugar. “Guess all that time living in regular space paid off.”

Not that she’d even known there was such a thing as _not_ living within the Federation’s boundaries until a few days ago. That was a thing, apparently, and now she knew where all the pirates and scavengers hung out. Despite Val’s business selling lotus they never really strayed from known paths or quadrants. Business was where the credits were, and credits were where people lived.

“About that,” Reeser spoke up several moments later, the monitors before them having calmed down to only a few blinking urgently. “I’m curious. How’d you end up on the Osiris?”

“Val commandeered it,” she answered without missing a beat, happy to talk about it. Why not? Val nabbed it fair and square. Sort of. “She was working on it, didn’t like the captain, floated him after a bungled supply trip and nobody resisted. Once the crew was paid off everything was great.”

“You were there?”

“Well,” she relented, “kind of. I was maybe…four, five, at the time. But I heard it was great.”

“What happened before then?” he wondered, flicking a few switches, the stars around them blurring with speed. “Wait, Val _bought_ a child? I thought there were laws about that.”

Paz shrugged, noshing on the last few grapes. She watched the stars turn into one giant smear of color. It was beautiful. “Dunno. Don’t think she bought me, to be honest. I think she just picked me up one day and that was that.”

“She never told you?”

“Should she have?”

The look he offered her was withering. “ _Yes_. You were a child. Where were your parents?”

“Dunno.”

“You don’t know.”

“Nah.”

“Do you even _know_ where Val picked you up?”

Grinning ear to ear Paz shrugged helplessly. She enjoyed this game they played. “It says Karkinos on my registry. Does that help?” His further dying look made her giggle. “Sorry. I just don’t know much. I’ve been with Val forever, that’s all I know.”

“No wonder you’re all kinds of weird,” he commented, shaking his head. Stars wobbled ahead of them, indicating he was dipping down. “Val’s been around for a while. I can’t imagine she went on sabbatical just to raise you, ye?”

“Raised on ships,” she slyly answered, settling back in her chair, mind reeling from the amount of ships she’d seen in her short life. Cruisers, cargo carriers, dreadnoughts, harvesters, royal Nav fleets that were basically functioning cities, rigs meant specifically for speed and others used for simple pleasures. The Osiris was small, true, but it was one meant for speed and stealth. If she recalled correctly Val modded it to better hold cargo but other than that, it was one meant for evasion. The Lakai, she had to believe, was in the same category, but bigger.

“What about yourself?” she asked him, a boot resting on the arm of his chair. He barely noticed. “Is what you said about the Royal Nav true? You worked for them?”

“Ye,” he murmured, focused. “Once. You think this place is strict? Tch, the Nav is much worse.”

She imagined it was. Lonyn came from there, spent a few years with the force before deserting. She had an interest in Val’s crew specifically for the credits. Paz suspected the Nav was why Osiris’s pilot was so…well, herself, but she’d never know. Lon never spoke of her time there. Perhaps, she thought, they knew one another.

“You ever work with a Lonyn?” she inquired, curious, though the way he lowered his brow indicated he hadn’t.

“Nah. Left maybe…a decade ago? Was already on warnings when my jet crashed and my knee shattered and that was the end of that.”

Everything was so practiced, as if he’d told it too many times to count and he probably had. Even she remembered him mentioning the leg bit before. She’d never seen him limping or appearing worse for wear, however.

“They fixed it?”

“Hell yes they did.” His gaze was stuck on the dash. “Honestly, I was the problem more than an injury. I just didn’t want to be there any longer.”

A thin smile curled on her lips. He clearly didn’t want to talk about it further but she had a feeling he hadn’t enjoyed his time. He was too casual, too easily distracted by pretty things. He might’ve denied hooking up with anyone on the Lakai but she knew better.

“What’d you do before?” she asked, fiddling with her now empty container, keeping to herself. “I mean, where’d you grow up? That sort of shit?”

“Probably shouldn’t tell you,” he regretfully muttered, not even trying to beat around the issue. “You go back to Val and next time I’m in free space I’ll be blasted between the eyes. Or—well, Val seems vindictive. She is, isn’t she? I could see her tearing open my family’s home and exposing it to the void. No, thanks.”

“I wouldn’t tell,” she insisted, eyes closing as she lounged. “You’re not the one I have a problem with.”

“Ah yes,” he sighed, segueing right back to sex. It was like they couldn’t avoid it. “The captain. You seriously had no clue who he was? Also—you do that often, just randomly fucking your way across quadrants?”

That brought a dreamy smile to her face, lustful memories filing her head. “Ye and no. I mean I’ve heard of Coram, seen the results of your guys’ handiwork on news vids and the accompanying mugshots, but that face? Nah, never.”

“They change their mods near quarterly,” Reeser softly explained, used to it by now. “It’s why authorities use biometrics.”

“Oh.” That was…something to not look forward to, she guessed. She didn’t even want to think everyone’s face would change here soon. “Great. Oh, and no on the fucking part. Not everyone, anyway. I swear.”

“You know that makes you a bit of a—er, easy, ye?” he remarked, cringing as the words came out. Paz laughed regardless, comfortable in her chair. She knew exactly what he alluded to.

“So? If I’m a slut then what do you call Coram? What about the rest of your crew? If they’re anything like me at least two of them are doing it right now.” And because her senses were crystal clear she _knew_ that was the case.

Humming over her he pretended he hadn’t heard that bit. “So not interested, do not care, do not want to know about that. Thank you.”

“You asked,” she pointed out, giggling faintly. “I’m just saying, what’s it matter? I’m a nobody. Anonymous. I like that. I can do that I want so…why not do what makes me happy?”

Reeser’s gaze narrowed before he looked over, surprised to see her near comatose. His defenses lowered, sort of seeing her point. “But…what about that dude aboard your ship?”

“Sam?” Scratching at her nose she smiled fondly. “Ye, he’s great.”

“I mean he doesn’t mind? Or does he even know?”

“Reeser,” she coyly gushed. “You’re pretty curious for not wanting to know anything.”

“Well?”

Her grin became soft, docile, happy to think about Sam’s nice, regular, beautiful face. “Course he knows. I love him. Not like—not like what you’re thinking. But he knows. He knew what I was up to before I did.”

“I’m…confused,” her companion said, trying to wrap his head around their arrangement. “You sleep with him and ‘love’ him but then you’re fucking half the galaxy on the side. How…how is he okay with that?”

“Like I said,” she sort of clarified, pleased to make his head spin. “I love him. A lot. But…one day he’ll probably be free and I want him gone. Hopefully somewhere he can be happy.”

That was the idea, anyway. She always promised she’d return to him, for now, and they spoke of being free agents together like it was something that’d actually happen. Knowing Val however, she wasn’t sure it’d really occur. At least, not for her. Between her and Sam she had the most freedoms, but he was the higher class. He would pay his way to freedom one day, she was sure of it, and she didn’t want him waiting for her.

Because she likely wouldn’t go.

“Ah,” the pilot mused, checking another monitor. “I get it. You’re like…placeholders for one another.”

She smirked. “Friends with benefits. It sounds better.”

Snorting, Reeser shoved the controls away and swiveled in his seat to face her. “Whatever helps you sleep.” Dropping a moment he dug beneath his seat for something. “So…I know we just beat this to death, but I heard you like whiskey.”

Her eyes popped open of their own accord, delighted to find a bottle of a nicer brand settled in his hands. Where he got it or why he had it wasn’t important for now—she already knew how. She stretched out a hand for it regardless.

“You’ve been holding out?”

He held it to his chest, teasing her. “You gonna drink this all at once or ration it out? Seriously, as far as I know this is all the contraband on the Lakai.”

“I’ll be good,” she promised, voice so light they both knew that meant nothing. Grimacing, he eventually lowered his guard.

“One shot for you, one for me.”

“You’re flying,” she argued, scooting forward, a new side of her rearing its head. “I’ll take your shot, too, because we must be responsible, ye?”

“Two for you, one for me,” he bargained, already unscrewing the top. Each shot would, of course, be a swallow. “And we never speak of this again. Alright? Besides, we’re on a straight path. Couldn’t get anything to happen out here even if we tried.”

Paz grinned fiendishly, accepting the bottle and taking the first swig. If he noticed she took more than a mouthful he blessedly didn’t say anything. Once it was back in his hands he took a more conservative sip, coughing and checking on the dash. She enjoyed watching his eyes water, eager to get wasted tonight, especially with him. He was truly alright in her opinion, an acceptable replacement for Sam even if he didn’t want to mess around. A shame he had to stay on the Lakai.

“How much they pay you?” she wondered once he handed back the bottle. He watched her take a generous swallow, then another, smirking when it wasn’t immediately returned. Aim must’ve done a fantastic job fixing her up if she could handle her liquor like that.

“Ugh, you have no chill. What’d I just say?”

“No idea,” she gushed, “but I love that you have it. Now, what’re you getting paid to fly for these dicks?”

Apparently also pleased with the arrangement he took another sip. Then another at her encouragement. Spluttering by that point he gave it back, letting her do as she pleased.

“They pay really, _really_ well. It helps they sought me out. I named a price, terribly inflated thinking they weren’t serious, but they agreed with several conditions. I…went ahead and signed on. Credits are credits, ye?”

She understood. Tipping back Paz studied the bottle, effects quickly taking hold. She was very okay with this. “Glad you’re here, then. Still don’t appreciate the whole kidnapping bit but you make this so much more bearable.”

Curious, Reeser asked her exactly how she’d tried escaping, both in Daysturis and on the Lakai, and she was only too happy to oblige. He wasn’t nearly as impressed about her romp through the vents as she thought he should be, though when he told her where she’d landed (the laundry room—no vents were going to lead outside) she did admit it sounded rather stupid.

It was quickly decided they needed music in the cockpit, Reeser just drunk enough to allow and make it happen. He had a decent collection and in between questions they worked on their karaoke skills. He allowed it simply because it was interesting watching her turn into an entirely different person, loud and intense and every reason why there was a rule about alcohol on board. Her emotions were untamed, every feeling the extreme but since he found it entertaining it wasn’t stopped.

Their exuberance did settle down several hours later, Paz lying across Reeser’s lap like a cat, the other haphazardly monitoring their path. He wasn’t near drunk as her, a good thing. Stroking her hair he could see why she attracted attention so easily, cheeks pink, eyes half shut and practically purring against him, grateful he could provide a good time. She’d told him so at least a dozen times in a dozen different ways. Thoughts goading him forward, he jiggled a leg to keep her awake.

“You are one wild person,” he thoughtfully commented, still finding their evening too good to be true. It was probably the only time he’d had a good night on the Lakai in ages. “Gods, you crammed an entire party into a couple hours.”

Paz beamed proudly, one hand sneakily reaching for the bottle he’d already set aside. “Let me have the rest and I’ll show you what I can really cram in.”

“Absolutely not,” he refused, grinning regardless. They didn’t need more, her especially. “Besides, you’ve got training to undergo tomorrow. I think they’ll notice if you’re hungover.”

“Doesn’t happen to me,” she objected, spine stretching, hand dropping. “Never.”

“Never?”

“Never. I’m Hylerian.”

He snorted dubiously. “You’re hilarious, you mean. Uh, I’ve spent enough time with them to know that’s not true.”

“It is for me.” She considered, brow wrinkling in drunken wonder. “Maybe it _is_ just me.”

“Doubtful.” Still stroking her hair he casually moved on. “So…what do you plan on doing to get the things Coram wants? Seriously. I’ve never heard of you—didn’t even consider you a thief until they said something about it.”

Paz kept grinning. “Walk in, break some shit, grab it, and walk out.” The words were practiced. Giggling, she curled toward him, feet awkwardly propped at his side. “That’s it. That’s all the planning I ever do.”

That didn’t sound like a solid plan. “You ever get caught?”

Her shoulders hunched. “Course. But Val will come collect me, and then I’ll be done with this bullshit.”

Fingers stilling, Reeser studied her. “That’s…that’s it? That’s your grand plan?”

“He’s murdered all sorts of people,” she mumbled, eyelids fluttering uncomfortably. “I won’t help him. No, I’ll do as I always do. Don’t get me wrong; I won’t rat you out.”

That wasn’t exactly what he was worried about and he considered her a moment. She was too drunk for her own good, too happy to provide answers. Yet even before he had the onerous task of telling her he’d indeed have to rat her out she was ahead of him, muscles going loose.

“Tell him, see if I care,” she softly insisted. “That’s why he gave you the booze, ye? I have the senses, _Reeser_ —I’ve known exactly where you’ve been holding that for three…three days? Ye, three. What’ll he do? Told him. Told him he’d regret it.”

“ _You’re_ gonna regret it,” he replied, a dull panic throbbing in his veins. He’d taken a liking to her, didn’t even want to get her drunk to provide better answers yet here they were. It pained him having to hear her idiotic plans. “Paz, that’s not a good idea. You know who you’re dealing with here. He’s played chicken before, I’ve seen it. Don’t make this any worse than it already is. You hear me?”

She didn’t appear to, head curled tight to one thigh. Jiggling her again she still didn’t respond, leading him to duck, surprised to find her face painfully scrunched. She was crying. He sighed, falling back.

“Kid, I…I mean, you’re the one who let him in.”

She’d thought about that a lot. Would Coram have dared do anything if she hadn’t engaged him? Would she still be on the Osiris?

It didn’t matter really, not when she was already here. She could try and snark the pain of being uprooted away but it still lingered. This was not a vacation, not a pleasure cruise no matter how she framed it to herself. These were not good people; the blood of thousands still lingered in the Lakai’s halls, and it’d taken every sip of alcohol allowed to dull that.

“I want to go home,” she uttered in the smallest voice possible. He pressed a hand to her cheek, sympathetic.

“Don’t we all?”

“How can you stand them?”

He’d seen this behavior before; Hylerians had the most dramatic meltdowns whether or not a situation called for it. There were plenty of them aboard the Lakai, especially when things weren’t going their way or someone was slighted. That happened frequently, and she was no different. He’d learned over the years how to slow tantrums, how to quell tears, and most importantly how to avoid becoming the subject of their wrath.

“You’ll go back,” he promised, though it wasn’t much of a promise and it didn’t answer her question. She already knew the honest answer to that: credits. Patting a hip he tried providing some comfort. “You will. Your fuck buddy’s waiting for you, ye?”

It didn’t make her stop but at least she smiled at that. It quickly died, the realization he might face some kind of wrath from Val always digging at her heart, forcing her emotions to run wild.


	12. Ch 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here Paz finally gets into the nitty gritty of what they're going to be doing! Plus, Reeser's coming along :)

He didn’t tell Coram about her plan, not as far as Paz could tell the next day. She was a little more irritable than usual but nothing bad, and when she showed up for training on what was going down she was almost surprised the captain met her in an otherwise empty office. Well, Desh was there but she’d quickly learned he was wherever Coram was—he was second in command, obviously. The captain didn’t appear pissed at all, which disappointed her greatly (she’d prepared comebacks and everything).

Training was fairly short, all parties aware she wouldn’t pay attention to anything that wasn’t her objective. Laying out a detailed map of a proper estate in Federation space, Coram pointed out where he expected the first item they needed lay. It would be in a vault, of course, this particular one a bit fussy given it was owned by someone very wealthy and influential. There were at least four different levels to the complex itself, a large thing on an even larger parcel of land. She had a sense of deja vu looking it over. It was almost familiar but the captain didn’t give a location or even the quadrant, only stating they were nearby.

As if she even knew where they were. She couldn’t read the monitors in Reeser’s cockpit, not without her comm. That likely wasn’t coming back anytime soon.

The plan was simple, something she could get behind. She would infiltrate at basement level and creep right in via a ventilation shaft (she didn’t miss Coram’s smirk). Inside she’d wind her way down several corridors to a room marked ‘indirect’ (how he knew that she didn’t know), place a transmitter on the door to open it up, go in, grab the artifact and leave immediately since that’d likely trip sensors. Then she’d zip back to her rig which would be located nearby in a rocky glen shrouded in acidic mist. Acid mists…that really sounded familiar but she didn’t know what from.

Toward the end of his presentation he beckoned for her hand so she held it out, hardly thinking. A thin metal bracelet clapped around her wrist before she could jump away, jaw loose with outrage as she stared at the thing. It was almost skin tight, not nearly loose enough to slip off.

“What the fuck?” she exclaimed, angrily prying at the band anyway. “I told you I’d get it to you! The hell’s this for?”

“To ensure you come back,” Coram explained with a false smile. “You want it off you’ve got to return to me. Otherwise, I can make that hurt.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything else,” she grumbled, fingers still rubbing over the metal. No matter, Val could likely get it off. She had no plans of actually doing as he requested, even if it ended up costing her. “Fuck, dude. I’ll get the damn thing.”

“How?” he wondered, his own hands splayed on the table between them. She noted his mods made his skin appear smooth, more so than anything that could be real. She should’ve had a problem with that from the start but he’d been funny, engaging, cute… Tch, she saw through it. Now. Still, his real face would pass through her mind from time to time, thoughts spinning in all sorts of directions. She tried not to do that currently.

“You don’t even know what it is,” he continued, pushing back to cross his arms and study her.

“Let me guess,” she bitterly quipped, happy to waste his time. “It’s old. Probably has some ancient writing on it I can’t understand. Maybe it’s a cup. Scavengers do like old cups.”

“You watch too many old vids,” he duly replied, unimpressed. Paz didn’t care; she’d seen many, _many_ cups in her looting. “Sorry, no cups this time. No, you’re gonna be looking for a piece of cut quartz. Careful with it. It’s old. Older than the Federation.”

Slowly nodding, Paz squinted. So she was looking for a rock? He wasn’t giving her much to go on. At the risk of sounding stupid she looked down and toed the floor. “Could…you be a bit more specific? Like, color and such?”

Rather than tell her his comm pulled up a picture across the desk, hiding the map for a moment. Peering down at it Paz memorized what was indeed a cut piece of pale white stone. It looked a bit like a system drive in her opinion with several notches here and there, but it was just a stick. A pretty stick, sure, but nothing special.

“You want this,” she confirmed, gaze carefully flickering up to his intent eyes. Even now she could imagine the dusty blue irises hiding behind his mods. When he gave a curt nod she jabbed a finger through on the picture. “You took me from my ship for this. I could’ve— _anyone_ could’ve made this.”

“Not the same,” he was quick to argue, chest heaving in a sigh. “This comes from Terra. All the artifacts come from Terra.”

She continued staring at him, wondering when he’d really lost his marbles. This was stupid. It was a fucking stick! Who cared if it came from some stupid planet she’d only heard of a couple days ago? She was very, _very_ sure she’d heard of quartz in the Federation, it couldn’t be much different.

“Are the other artifacts like this, too?” she demanded, venom rising in her throat. There was definitely no way she’d help him now. Not only was he dangerous but he was more of an idiot than she was. “You seriously stole me from my ship to gather some rocks?”

“If you’d let me explain earlier they’d seem a bit more important,” he relented, “but, ye. I need them.”

There was a split moment where she wanted to scream at him for being such a stupid soul but caught herself, gaze darting back to the table to the map beneath. If this stick was in a vault in some wealthy asshole’s estate then there was probably a reason for that. Why, she had no clue, but did she really want to know? Part of her did, but the rest…well, what good would it do to hear it now? She’d barely paid attention to anything else. If he started talking about how the stick had some kind of magical powers then she might laugh and tell him to fuck off.

And that, she thought as her gaze went back to her new bracelet, might hurt. She didn’t need to test that yet. He still thought she was going to go along with this.

“Fine,” she murmured, trying not to glower. “So I leave after glo-rise. I only know how to pilot RM’s and V50’s. You got any of those or what?”

After a soft chuckle the captain shook his head. “Oh, you’re not flying anything. You’ll have a pilot—he’ll be doing that. And accompanying you through your mission.”

It was like he knew just how to deny her any liberties. Paz’s surprise wore off the second she guessed who’d be tagging along. Her eyes twitched furiously.

“Oh, come on! No, I am not bringing Reeser. He can’t—he’s your pilot! That’s kind of important! Leave him on the ship and leave him alone. Besides, he can’t keep up with me.”

Which, she realized, was probably the point. He’d get hurt. And she couldn’t…couldn’t just leave him. Ignoring Coram’s pleased expression she crossed her arms, fuming. “Get someone else.”

“Why not?” he wondered, feigning ignorance. She wanted to punch him. Would’ve if Desh wasn’t present. She bet she could take him on alone.

“Get someone else,” she reiterated. “I’m not joking.”

“You think this might end poorly?” Coram wanted to know, head cocking like he was genuinely curious. “Or—you had different plans, didn’t you?”

Ugh, that motherfucker did say something after all. Anger would’ve been more preferable to Coram stringing her along thinking she could obviously find an escape.

The captain shrugged helplessly, as if it were out of his control. “Trust me, I wouldn’t have picked him either but he volunteered. Guess you’ve made an impression on him.”

Reeser thought she’d fuck herself over. Who did he think he was, trying to wrangle _her_ in? Though he made a good substitute, Reeser wasn’t Sam—he had no authority over her and come to think of it no one in here did, not even the motherfuckers in front of her. Who cared what they were? _She_ was no one’s lackey and definitely no one’s order taker.

Spinning around she hit her wrist on the door hard as she could on her way out, disappointed the bracelet didn’t break. Coram told her to hold on but she only offered a rude gesture. She made a beeline for the cockpit, slamming it’s door shut and stomping away when she didn’t find Reeser inside. The rec room was absent of him, as was the cafeteria so she sprinted to crew quarters in the lower decks, banging on his designated door with a relentless fist. Inside she heard his muffled voice, indicating she stop. She definitely didn’t stop until he slid open the door, immediately laying into him.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she decided for him, inches from him even as he backed up. “You’re not flying anything but the Lakai and you’re _not_ going on this stupid fetch quest, alright?”

Bumping into his bed Reeser fell back, awkwardly looking up at her livid figure. He was in sweats and a loose shirt, both a little damp like he’d just gotten some exercise. “What? But, I figured you’d be more comfortable with someone you knew.”

“You’re not on the same level as me,” she snapped, moving right along. He could lie all he wanted, she already knew what he was up to. It didn’t matter that they were friendly, she wasn’t okay with his accompaniment. “You will get shot, hurt—something, alright? Stick to flying. It’s your job.”

“I won’t get hurt,” Reeser refuted, frowning. “What’s the plan, exactly? Coram’s rundown wasn’t that bad.”

“Ye, because it’ll be me doing this shit, not you,” she answered, doubling down. “You’re staying here. I’m going back there to tell him you changed your mind.”

“You act like I’m an invalid,” he argued, seeing where this was headed. “Paz, I’ve been on the ground before, I can help make sure this is done properly.”

“No!” she exclaimed, practically between his knees, eyes wide and likely betraying her fear. “No. You’re not going. I don’t care.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” he hollered back, rising and forcing her toward the door with a firm hand on one shoulder. “I’m _helping_ you. I’m not waiting to learn in a couple weeks you failed on purpose and that’s why my whole crew’s in custody all the sudden.”

“Your crew?” she balked, hitting the door, adrenaline making her thoughts run wild. “Your crew kidnapped me! Why the fuck would I want to stay?”

“Because if you don’t you know what he’ll do to yours,” Reeser spat, refusing to sugarcoat it. Holding her attention he squeezed her shoulder, adding, “You want them alive then you gotta cooperate and I know—I know how your type operates. Been around it for a while now. You think you’re so fucking clever, like nothing matters so long as you get your way. Guess what—he thinks the same way and has _far_ more firepower.”

Silenced, Paz had to think. She…did suppose he was right. But she could still do as she pleased, she’d never failed herself before. She just—

Well, suppose Coram did threaten the Osiris. He hadn’t yet, not explicitly, but she could see it happening. It was one of the few things she cared about and they knew it since she had no such thing as a poker face. She started denying this anyway but stopped, gaze moving to the floor.

“He wouldn’t,” she quietly protested, super aware that was a lie. “He said he didn’t care.”

“And he doesn’t,” Reeser agreed, tone having taken on that of…what she imagined a brother might sound like. His worried brow made her think so anyway. “But he would. The second you pull your stunts he’d start. Don’t fall into that trap, Paz.”

She studied his boots then his face and back down to the ground, rejection bubbling in her veins. What did he care? He couldn’t. He had no business, no _right_ to care so soon. It had to be a rouse, they weren’t…they weren’t Val and if she’d learned one thing in all her travels it was that people tolerated her very well, but they did _not_ care. She in turn didn’t care for them, didn’t even care for Reeser because he was simply a distraction to keep calm.

But…she was afraid he’d be hurt. If he were to go, and for the sake of argument say she went along with Coram’s plan, he’d never keep up with her. If security was called (wealthy people always had hired guns) she’d dart around, potentially exposing herself to biohazards people like him couldn’t tolerate. Being the nice guy he was he’d try and stick close, try to cover her ass when in reality she’d be the one doing that, not him, because she didn’t want him…hurt.

Damn, he’d caught her in his own trap.

Attention flicking back to his stupid face she hoped she wasn’t scowling. “Fine. You’re—right, I guess. But…I mean, what’s in it for you?”

Relieved she’d relented he shuffled backward, trusting eyes taking in her features. He wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t appear cross. She had to imagine he was used to the way she’d burst in.

“Nothing,” he finally answered, exhaling. “It’s just I’ve seen this before. Love my job, love my paycheck and the benefits I get out here. But…I’d rather not watch you give him every reason to have a field day.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” she bitterly denied, ignoring his knowing gaze. “I wouldn’t. I’m not a total idiot, I would make it look a bit authentic.”

His cheeks puckered. “Right. Course you would.” Stepping around her he slid open the door, beckoning her out. “Come on, let me pack in peace. We’ll start off on our own damn adventure tomorrow and make sure you get a fair shake at this.”

Paz didn’t move, offering a desperate smile. “Or you could help me leave. That’d be a great adventure right there.”

“No.” Nudging her out he wouldn’t even hear of it. “I _love_ my job.”

“You’d love my crew better,” she reasoned, though his blanch indicated otherwise. Hand on the door he was already sliding it shut, leaving her in the cold.

“I spent maybe twenty minutes total on your ship and felt like a piece of meat the entire time. No, thanks. See you in the morning, kid.”

“But—!”

“We’ll get through this, ye?”

And then he clicked the lock shut. Silence echoed off the door after that. Staring at the metal Paz pursed her lips, quietly mulling this over. Okay, he could _say_ he liked it here but they were murdering thieves and he was their getaway driver. That wasn’t a good position. There were ways to get them both out of here and back to the Osiris in relative safety. He’d see. He’d love it there, and they could use a copilot anyway. Val paid good, too.

Stalking from the door she’d already made up her mind. She was still going to get out of here. Reeser thought he knew everything but she’d show him. No, she’d show his captain.


	13. Ch 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to find the first artifact and royally screw up Coram's 'plans'. Without even trying Paz will be good at least at one of those things >:D Reeser may have finally realized he should not have volunteered to accompany her.

-Hiduron, Tibur Sigma Quadrant-

“Um…I’ve been here before.”

Standing on a bluff overlooking a palatial estate Paz’s heart swelled with newfound hope. She had. She’d been inside those regal looking walls just recently. Coming back was almost divine providence, like a sign from the universe telling her she was right.

It should’ve been obvious on their trail to a little planet in a modest system but she hadn’t connected the dots until it stared her in the face.

With the Lakai lingering in the void nearby, they’d left earlier that day after a quick recap of what their objective was and a halfhearted ‘good luck’ from Coram while his engineers ensured their ride was ready. Popping out of the cruiser’s underbelly they then zipped toward the nearest system. She’d been surprised to hear Reeser telling her they were in a quadrant she knew well, Tibur Sigma, even more surprised to learn they were destined for Hiduron. Reeser hauled ass in their cramped rig, a tiny thing meant for singular transport.

The trip down wasn’t long at all, perhaps a handful of hours before they were hurtling through the stratosphere and streaking across the temperate planet’s sky. They crossed through hazy climes for some time before entering the dark side of the planet, landing and hiding amongst an outcrop of jagged rocks, one of the few places left uncovered by thick, sprawling jungles.

By then she’d already started warning Reeser, informing him the air here was poisonous so if he wanted to wait in the ship that’d be fine. He climbed out with her in a suit humming with oxygen scrubbers, ruining any chances she had of keeping him out of this.

In her own less confining suit she trekked from the ship in near pitch black conditions, Reeser usually in front of her with a light and phaser rifle for good measure (since he had a comm, he was in charge of logistics). Once they crossed the first swath of jungle the sky overhead had lightened, making the walk fairly decent. The trip was easy regardless, one in his own thoughts and the other anxiously wondering how to get out of this as she hacked at stray branches with a dull knife.

She had no comm, no way of communicating with Reeser should they be separated. Worse, her weapon sucked. Reeser at least had hold of his phaser but that’d do her no good. Why they trusted her with someone who had a real weapon but didn’t trust her with a weapon itself was beyond irritating, and she would be complaining once they returned.

Well, _if_ they returned. She was still waffling on that.

By the time they emerged from the jungles and reached a grassy knoll overlooking the targeted estate, Hiduron’s sun was high overhead, giving Paz a really, really good view. She snorted at first, giggling until Reeser demanded what was so funny.

Which was how they were both now staring at it, drinking in probably the largest estate they’d both ever see with their own eyes. Poor Reeser still had his suit on but Paz wasn’t bothered by the high levels of acidity, casually swatting matted hair from her face as she gawked.

“Reeser, this is Fiala’s house.”

She sat down while he processed that, panting and confused.

“Who’s…Fiala?” he needed to know, the name unfamiliar.

“This lady Val knows. She buys from us a lot—er, well, she did. Anyway, I was here like what, a month ago? Month or two, I think.”

“Too bad you’re stealing from her,” he muttered, on his belly looking over estate grounds. It was guarded as they’d predicted, and the house was huge. Immense, truly. From what she recalled Fiala owned the region, her house the only one for thousands of kilometers. The only thing surrounding it were fields upon fields of tall huasca plants, the mogul’s drug of choice. Paz hadn’t noticed that before, but then again she’d been delivered to Fiala in a much different way, too. No wonder the woman’s orders had been smaller in quantity lately.

She shuddered at the delightful memory of huasca—it was like lotus except so much more generous. She could’ve gone for it recently but Aim kept warning her any hard substances would wreck havoc on her new organs, not at all a comforting statement to hear from the doctor but she’d been sure her position wouldn’t cross paths with anything too hardcore.

Yet here they were, in the heart of huasca territory. It’d be nice to take advantage of it.

Combing out her matted hair she offered Reeser a brilliant smile. “You know, I bet I could get this thing so much more easily if I just walked down there and said hello.”

“No,” he immediately flatlined, obscured eyes clearly glaring at her beneath his visor. “Bad idea. We get in and out, that’s it. This isn’t the time for chit-chat. Besides, what do you think she’d do if she saw you? You’re missing.”

“Val wouldn’t advertise that,” she argued, smirking. “That’s a weakness.”

“Her _property_ was stolen and you think she wouldn’t say something?” He was laughing. “You’re incredible.”

Incredible? His sarcasm didn’t discourage her but she did have some doubts. Scanning the estate some more, she let her senses determine what they should really do. She could already envision where the vents were, could see herself tumbling out into a dark basement hall and tricking security to open that storeroom for her. But…

Going through the ventilation system sounded so dumb. Why _not_ walk right up if she knew she’d be greeted? All she had to do was hang out in the house long enough and then she could swipe that stupid stick. It’d be easy. Getting out would be a bit trickier but there’d never been a situation Paz hadn’t been able to escape.

Minus Coram’s crew but she blamed that on him matching her trait for trait. That was a fluke; had she known she would’ve tried different tricks.

Not bothering to consult with her partner she rose from one knee, then the other, and headed down the hill. Visiting Fiala would be so much more entertaining than creeping through some vents.

“Paz! _Paz_!”

“Come on,” she idly called back, sure Reeser was having a fit. “She won’t do anything to us. Then we can scope out what’s going on inside.”

After some rustling his footsteps fell behind hers, quick and angry. “I fucking hate you.”

Twisting, she offered her previous smile. “You’re the one who volunteered. Come on; this’ll be easy.”

“We should stick to the plan,” he hissed, words muffled beneath his suit. He went along with her idea however, if only because stopping her clearly wouldn’t work, not at this point. She hoped he knew that. Besides, they were already halfway down the other side of the knoll, a platoon of guards already pointing rifles their way, lasers accompanying their shouts to stay still.

Paz kept walking, albeit a bit slower, staying just ahead of Reeser’s dragging steps. He didn’t care to be aimed at, letting Paz know this several times on their slog. The estate grew bigger and bigger on the horizon. She somehow had no problem with the guns, smiling prettily at the guards, hands raised at her sides and arching her back just so. Looking good had never hurt a situation.

“Hi!” she called over several vaguely threatening guards, their movements quick as they were surrounded on the front lawn. Their warnings went ignored as she nodded at the house. “Is Fiala home? I need to speak with her, it’s about the shipment we were supposed to send.”

If Reeser was wondering what that shipment was he was smart enough to keep quiet. He did take note that Paz wasn’t really understanding what they replied back, hence her ignorance. They wanted her to let them do a search and to state which company or crew she was from but she just stood there, nodding like an idiot. He finally elbowed her, hissing what they needed.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, flushing. “Sorry—comm’s broken. Um, hard no on the search and we represent the Osiris. I’m Paz and this is Sam. She knows me, but this is ah…well, our _scientist_.”

“They want to know what for,” Reeser breathed before figuring it out, suddenly holding his head upright. “Lotus.” He took the role easily, as she expected he would if he’d just play along—he did it for the Lakai, so it made sense he’d know how to act.

He then went on to field most questions, only asking Paz a few things and explaining in detail how they’d been headed here— _finally_ —with product but it crashed and they’d need a bit of assistance, if possible. Paz kept the good natured act, incredibly pleased with his performance. He was a real keeper.

Between them both they convinced the guards to bring them to sprawling front steps, pushing them into the estate’s port so they could get out of their suits and begin the decontamination process. After that they were herded to a plush waiting area, Paz lounging on a luxurious couch and Reeser awkwardly standing by, still trying to towel sani-gel from behind his ears. He was clearly unhappy with her but at the same time their circumstances had just drastically improved. Even for a waiting area Fiala’s digs were far more decadent than most things he’d seen in his entire life.

“See?” she told him, grinning fiendishly and gazing up at the tall, gilded ceiling. “It’s nice here, isn’t it?”

He uttered a self conscious grunt, rubbing at the marks his suit made across his brow. “Can’t believe she invited you back.”

“She likes me,” Paz giggled, stretching happily. She still wasn’t used to much activity so after their walk this was pure bliss. “This’ll be fun. Plus, now I can at least properly explain the mishap.”

The offense he offered was priceless. Outright lying to guards with guns had been bad enough, but now they were going to tell what was clearly a queen in the huasca game that they’d accidentally lost the product she’d ordered? Reeser honestly had no idea how Paz planned on working this out but he figured it…would.

Hopefully. If not maybe the Lakai might bother replying to the pings he was sending every couple minutes. Hopefully Coram liked his pilot enough to perform a strike if need be.

They didn’t wait much longer. A thin woman eventually emerged from the other end of the hall, teeth sparkling beautifully in their direction. Reeser went still, enamored by her appearance, and Paz jumped off the couch, waving brightly.

“Fiala!”

“Paz!”

Both said each other’s names at the same time, causing each to giggle. Arms stretching wide for her Fiala beckoned the Hylerian closer.

“Come here, darling! What a surprise it is seeing you here!”

She spoke the common tongue, as most people in the Federation did these days, and Paz threw herself at the woman, hugging her tight. It felt _so_ good to be with someone she at least knew. Coram had been smart cuffing her earlier—she would’ve told Fiala everything in a matter of seconds.

“I am so, _so_ happy to see you,” she gasped, taking in Fiala’s casual yet effortless beauty. Her mods made her look like a vision, cherubic in all the right places and her wild mane of dusty rose hair flowing beyond her shoulders. She smelled like huasca: sweet, subtle, with a vague hint of something earthy. Enveloped in her arms Paz breathed deep, eyelids shuttering pleasantly.

“Me, too,” Fiala agreed, offering a kiss atop her crown. She was incredibly affectionate, always had been. “I was getting worried. When you didn’t show I contacted Val but, well—you know how she is.”

Paz grinned. Val never told anyone a thing unless it could be used as leverage. In this case it worked well for her and Reeser. She’d elaborate their ‘crash’, get some sympathy from Fiala, and then…she wasn’t sure yet how this would end. She wanted to tell the woman what was going on, but not in front of her partner.

Thinking of him she twisted, nodding at his slackened jaw. “Fiala, this is Sam.”

“The boy you spoke of?” Fiala grew coy, pretty grey eyes roving over Reeser. “Ah, I see what you meant. What a lovely companion you’ve aligned yourself with.”

Nodding, Paz didn’t even realize she was blushing until Fiala patted one warm cheek. She looked to the floor, Sam’s jovial face, the one he reserved for her, coming to mind. “Ye. Ye, he is.”

“Sam,” Fiala called, her voice tinkling off the walls. “Please, join us. I’ve heard many good things about you.”

Paz hoped he’d been paying attention when she’d pined for Sam days earlier. Snapping out of his stupor Reeser hesitantly trotted over, Fiala taking him under one wing and guiding them deeper into her home.

Their first and only stop was a living area perhaps as big as the entire Osiris, with only a few servants flitting about, dusting here and there. One Fiala called over, requesting refreshments and a bit of food. Her guests, she duly noted with a sly glance at Reeser, had to be hungry.

She brought her guests to a large chaise near floor-to-ceiling windows, sitting them in the best spots and smiling as they took in the lovely view of her huasca plantation. Reeser kept blinking as if he wasn’t seeing properly, Paz getting comfortable to his right and paying more attention to their host than anything.

“Tell me,” Fiala mused, draping herself over an arm of the chaise, hands tightly clasped. “How fares the Osiris? I hadn’t heard anything for so long and was beginning to think my investment was null.”

Taking the first plate of goodies offered, Paz nodded like she knew what Fiala meant. In truth she’d never paid attention. Val knew Fiala from several years (decades?) back and they traded frequently. Now that Fiala was in the huasca business their relationship had cooled, and Fiala’s refusal to pay for the last lotus shipment really did put a hinge in their friendship but…as far as it sounded, Val hadn’t done anything to her former friend for that slight. No, she liked to hold onto her vengeance for opportune moments.

“I’m sorry for not coming earlier,” she told the woman between bites of pastries and cheese. Reeser, she hazily noticed, hadn’t touched a thing, hands politely folded in his lap. “The thing is, the Osiris got jumped in dock a while back. Sam and I escaped in my rig but we’ve kind of been floating around, trying to get a hold of Val and maybe some direction. Sam, try this. You’ll love it.”

“In a bit,” he replied, apologetically smiling up at Fiala’s prim figure. “Still a little queasy from the acid out there.”

Their hostess asked another servant to bring some medication, concern crossing her brow. “Yes, that fog is dreadful. Don’t worry, we’ve plenty of anti-nausea meds to soothe you.” Her gaze lingered on him before flicking back to Paz. “I take it you were able to speak to Val, ye?”

“Yes,” Paz answered, completely fine with Fiala’s hospitality. To be honest it was much more subdued than last time. “We did. Everyone’s fine, we’re just…we’ve been encouraged to stay away until she can sort through several issues first. And since we were wandering this quadrant I figured we ought to drop by and let you know what happened with your shipment but…we ran out of fuel as we entered the atmosphere so…we’re in a bit of a bind.”

Placing several fingers on her lower lip Fiala expressed utter sympathy. “What rotten luck. I’m sorry to hear that. We’ll get the coordinates later and I’ll have my team look it over. Your comm’s broken, isn’t it? Have you told Val you’re here?”

“I did,” Reeser volunteered, gingerly accepting a cup of tea handed over by another servant. “She said she’d send someone out this way once they have a chance.”

Fiala smiled, relieved. “Good. Perhaps she’ll even drop by if she’s around. I’d like that. Haven’t seen her in years. Paz, please tell her I miss her company. She seems more inclined to believe you than myself.”

That was because Fiala was a backstabbing bitch but Paz promised she would regardless, more than happy to abuse the woman’s goodwill one final time.

While Reeser sipped his tea she delved into a convoluted story about what’d gone on in the past couple months, entertaining their host with all kinds of stupid yet mostly plausible tales from her travels. Fiala tried engaging Reeser but he’d gone shy so Paz did her best solo performance. She spoke of her latest hookups and the fiasco at a bar that’d landed her in prison several months prior, happy to make Fiala laugh at her antics. When she finally pittered out of gossip in the lotus world Fiala took a place next to Paz, idly braiding her hair and clucking over the state of their business. If either noticed Reeser had dozed off they didn’t mention it, too absorbed in their own world together.

That was what Paz liked about this woman. She was a kind person, one who didn’t discriminate on class but by what one could do for her. Paz liked that model, saw it in Val as well and had tried emulating it for years. When she first met Fiala she’d quickly seen where Val learned it from. And Fiala herself…she was patient, gentle, and…had a gifted tongue. It’d only taken her three trips to Hiduron to figure that out firsthand.

Aside from the part where Val wanted Fiala dead Paz was rather charmed by her, much too grateful for the hospitality to even consider killing her now. Nope, stealing would be just fine.

But that would happen later. For now she wanted to pretend this was a friendly moment. Plus she just really liked Fiala’s featherlight touch and the massive braid she was twisting her hair into.

“I think he’s fallen asleep,” their host finally commented, both grinning as Reeser drooled, chin touching his chest. “Poor boy’s exhausted. How far did you trek from?”

“Not that far,” Paz told her, neck lolling back. “He hasn’t been getting much sleep though, believe me.”

“You keep him up?” Fiala wondered, tongue sticking out when Paz opened an eye. “Paz, are you that insatiable?”

“Tch, me? No. _No_. Well, sometimes, but not like you think.”

“What do you think I think?” Fiala playfully demanded, smoothing one section of her hair and starting another long, loose braid. Doing her best not to blush Paz grinned, imagining Sam’s concentrated face, brow sparkling with sweat, muscles pulling over her. Worry gnawed at her heart.

“We’re not lovey dovey,” she softly divulged, that part at least true. Sometimes. “He just…makes me happy.”

“And keeps your bed warm,” her companion concluded practically. Her fingers nimbly worked through loose strands, knitting them together. “No shame in that. Have you…you’ve told him what you told me, didn’t you?”

Going silent Paz’s eyes popped open, starting guiltily at Reeser. She shook her head, fidgeting with her shirt hem. She’d told Reeser, sure, but not…not Sam.

“No.”

Fiala tutted in a motherly fashion. “Why not? Darling, stringing them along never ends well.”

“I’m not doing that,” she denied, voice almost imperceptible. “I’m not. He knows…knows it’s not serious.”

“Are you sure?”

That she couldn’t answer. Needing to change topics she lowered her gaze back to her lap, choosing her next words wisely. “Fiala…I need to talk to you. In private.”

She could feel the woman’s delight. “Yes, of course. Do you mind if we hold off on that a bit? I meant to tell you earlier but I’m hosting dinner for several of my clients. It’d please me to have you both at my side, especially your boy. He does converse more with drink, doesn’t he?”

Smirking, Paz shifted on the chaise, waiting for her hair to be finished. “Oh, he does. Don’t worry; he’ll be a riot.”


	14. Ch12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finally Reeser and Paz's moment to steal the artifact, buttttttt things start sliding to hell instead :/

Dinner was indeed entertaining. Provided with some more appropriate clothes Paz and Reeser sat to Fiala’s left at an enormous stone table, laughing and drinking right along with six or so socialites that needed to do ‘business’ with their host. That business paled in comparison to everyone asking each other questions, jumping in to tell outrageous stories of previous parties or of pick up missions that’d gone askew (yes, they were _that_ kind of client).

With wine Reeser did emerge from his shell, mostly ignoring Paz because he was still pissed with her but engaging with others extremely well, just as she knew he would. He had a natural charisma, chatting about all kinds of subjects and definitely forgetting who he was supposed to be but it didn’t matter, not when pretty people were practically drooling over him. Paz enjoyed watching him mingle, relieved to give him this time. Sure, he didn’t appreciate it in the moment but he would. She couldn’t imagine he’d attended any fancy dinners lately, not while working on the Lakai.

She on the other hand spent a good portion of the night drinking like a fish, ignoring the pains it gave her innards and thinking. At every chance she’d gaze down the nearest hall, envisioning where it went, the stairs she’d need to head down, and a long, narrow hall silent as could be just beyond. The stick Coram wanted was somewhere down below, she could sense it even under the influence.

It exuded a soft hum in her veins, telling her it was ready for the taking just like other shapeless treasures around it. No one guarded it; no one seemed to care about it much. Drinking didn’t help but she knew for a fact she could easily excuse herself, trot down there and retrieve it.

But then she’d become distracted by a guest or Fiala, her cup always full, and she’d set those thoughts aside. By now she didn’t even want to take anything from their host. Fiala could help them.

Dinner was absolutely delicious, too, further keeping her occupied. Their host knew how to wine and dine, pushing away any doubts Paz might’ve had. Their company was perfect, and service couldn’t be better. Decent music hung in the air, and of course the scent of huasca put a nice, subtle touch on everything. It couldn’t get any better, honestly.

The room spun by the time she forced herself to stop drinking, giggling at Reeser’s side as he endured numerous flirtations from several guests. He clearly didn’t mind them, making his interactions that much more fun to watch. He _adored_ the attention. It just cemented her belief he’d like living far, far from the Lakai.

With that in mind she easily abandoned the idea of actually helping Coram (tch, as if she would’ve in the first place), certain Fiala would take pity on them. _Everyone_ knew about Coram’s crew; it terrorized the Federation regularly, looting Nav ships, destroying said Nav ships, and…apparently stealing organs, too. No one had told her how they acquired her weak ones, leading her to assume the worst.

At any rate Fiala would understand why she’d made up such a story to come inside. Now she just needed to divulge all this without upsetting Reeser.

Then, Fiala would ship them back to Val. Val would be so grateful she’d forgive Fiala entirely and Paz wouldn’t need to even think of killing her. It made sense to her, and it’d fix everything. Damn, she was proud of herself for coming to such a great conclusion.

At some point one of their guests announced they needed to head out, signaling to others the same idea. Rising from her chair Fiala thanked them for coming on such short notice and then tilted her head to both Paz and Reeser. Even her cheeks were a lush pink, her enjoyment obvious.

“If you’d like you can retire to my quarters,” she politely requested, having already offered them several of her private rooms for the night. Paz, in all her infinite wisdom, had already decided they’d be staying. “I’ve some business with my friends first but I’ll be there shortly.”

Barely coherent, Paz nodded, taking her time getting up. Beside her Reeser said goodbye to his new fans, loopily promising he’d see them later. They waved the others off, then made a wobbly climb through Fiala’s sprawling home to the stairs. He joked about the sudden amount of new blood at his disposal while Paz half listened, wondering if he was drunk enough yet to accept staying here. He had to be, the way he was carrying on.

She giggled as he knocked hips with her once they set foot on the staircase, a grand thing that pushed from floor to floor in a zigzag. “You’re in a better mood.”

“I’ve been fed and watered,” came his simple reply, knocking hips once more and swaggering first up one step, then back to hers. A hand reached out for hers, Paz’s addled brain taking some time to offer one palm. Whatever ill will he’d carried for her was gone for the moment. Instead he pulled her along, coaxing her to the polished bannister so they could both gaze down at the floors below.

“This is our chance,” he softly murmured, heavy lidded eyes determining how long it might take to get down there. “You have any idea how to get down there?”

Surprised he’d even thought about that the entire night Paz shrugged indifferently. Of course she had an idea, but she didn’t want to execute it. “Ye. No one’s around, it should be an easy lift, but—”

“Then let’s go,” he bravely announced, tilting for the lower landing and laughing just as easily as she did. Unable to help herself Paz let him drag her downward, hardly even thinking about watching out behind them. “We haven’t got all night.”

That was true but she felt as if they were making a great mistake. They were drunk. That’d never stopped her before but now it sounded like a great excuse. Slowing before they could dive further she grabbed hold of the bannister, pausing their adventure.

“We’ll get caught,” she cautioned, spine tingling. Reeser twisted to look at her like she’d grown a second head and even she was a bit perplexed. Those words never came out of her mouth. She could do anything. “I just think we should—”

“You said no one’s down there, ye?” he confirmed, tugging at her wrist again. “Then let’s go! What’re you waiting for?”

“We shouldn’t do it,” she quickly hissed, getting the words out before she could back down. Attention cast elsewhere she hurriedly backed up a step, borrowed heels clacking on the stone. “We could leave. Just let me talk to Fiala and I know she’ll—”

“Fiala’s not going to help us,” he scoffed, voice too loud to her liking. At least no one was around, but still. Cheeks burning Paz chewed on her lower lip, aware he was adamant on finishing this out. “You know what we’re here for, so let’s just get it and get out. Simple. None of this bullshit involving others.”

Ah, others. She hadn’t really considered ‘others’ in her fantasies. Frowning, she reminded herself they could get out of this. “Reeser, she’d call Val. Val could get us out of here and I know we could use a second pilot. She pays well, I swear, and then you wouldn’t have to go back to that—”

“ _I’d like to go back_ ,” he interrupted, tone hardening. “I—”

“But they’re criminals!” she insisted, ignoring the fact Val was a little on the wrong side of the law as well. It wasn’t the same though. “You’re helping them murder people. You’re—”

“You’ve no idea what you’re talking—”

“Would you let me finish?” she snapped, irritation rising with the dull ache in her belly. “I can get you out of there! Let me help you, please. You helped me; it’s only fair.”

He yanked his hand back, suddenly eyeing her with newfound disgust. “Nah. I’m not going to some foreign ship I know nothing about just because _you_ think it’s better. Thank you for thinking for me, Paz, but I _enjoy_ what I do and I’d rather stay with my crew. Now, do you have a fucking plan or not to go get that thing?”

Head ducking, Paz’s shoulders lowered. She couldn’t think straight at the moment but his refusal currently infuriated her. Why didn’t he understand? It was plain as could be to her—the Lakai sucked and the Osiris was at least less notorious.

Taking her silence as a ‘no’ he huffed, hands stuffing in his pant pockets while he shifted unsteadily on the steps. “Great. Just great. So you brought me in here to have a party, ye? You weren’t even gonna try to get it, were you? Not even with me here? Paz, I’m fucking _trying_ to help _you_.”

“I don’t need your help!” she exclaimed, words coming out more shrill than she meant. Muscles tense she swung around, clattering up the steps. There was a room somewhere upstairs with a plush robe laid out just for her and a bath she could enjoy rather than listen to him bitch. She’d never had a bath before so she’d really like to try it out. “I’m going home, okay? Fuck your team, fuck the consequences: Val will be more than ready to nail your crew if they dare show their faces ever again.”

There was another huff, this one more pronounced. “So that’s it, then? You’re just—just gonna leave me here?”

“Ye.” Her heels were so damn loud on each step but she was already making good progress, not even glancing back down to see if he’d moved. “You don’t get what you’re doing with them.”

“You don’t get what you’re doing with Val!”

“That’s different!” she shouted back, heart pounding in her chest. “That’s—!”

“You’re just another fucking slave running back to her master,” he accused, each word poisonous as it felt hitting her ears. Skin flushed with shame Paz pretended she hadn’t heard that, mind already made up and forging ahead. Fuck Reeser. Seriously, fuck him. Who cared what happened to him? He was the one putting himself in danger, not her. She wasn’t risking her life for these fuckers. She hadn’t asked for this: all she wanted was to go home, back to the Osiris, back to Val and Sam. If he couldn’t understand that then she’d sorely misjudged him.

When no counterargument came Reeser banged on the banister, brain having just as hard a time as hers to make good sentences. “Paz. Paz, I didn’t—hold on.”

She could hear him coming up the steps behind her but she was faster, always was. She’d told him he wouldn’t be able to keep up, though that smug thought didn’t make her feel much better. By the time she’d reached the uppermost floor he wasn’t even close and she stomped down Fiala’s grand hall, it’s stately beauty ignored.

She slid into the room Fiala had given her for the night, slamming the door shut behind her. Taking several steps back she both watched the door and clumsily kicked off her heels, waiting for the inevitable. Right on time Reeser’s heavy fist banged on the solid wood frame, his awkward coughs muffled. He was panicking, realizing what might happen should she actually ask Fiala for help.

“Paz, come on. Let’s talk about this.”

“Nothing to talk about,” she called through the door, stalking away and looking for that robe she’d seen earlier. Her clothes and (decontaminated!) suit were neatly folded at the end of a fluffy bed illuminated via the room’s reinforced glass ceiling. The robe lay next to them. Grabbing it she headed for the washroom, his apologetic words following her all the way. She hoped he felt bad; she _was_ his ticket to safety, one way or another. It was a shame he didn’t want to cooperate.

But…

Pausing in front of the washroom mirror she contemplated herself, wide eyes red and watery from too much alcohol. Fiala had lent her a nice dress that hung well on her currently willowy frame, rich in a mint color that complimented the silvery beige locks she’d painstakingly braided earlier. Paz’d had a very nice night, enjoyed every moment so far inside…well, until Reeser thought they could steal something while drunk.

Which she could totally do, but that was beyond the point. The point was, she didn’t want to go back to the Lakai because she knew what they were capable of. She didn’t want Reeser going back, either, or getting caught up in this. Why…why couldn’t he just agree and be as eager about getting off that damn ship as she was? It made no sense. He’d seemed like a smart enough guy. Why was he being so stupid about wanting to stay on as the Lakai’s pilot?

“Paz?”

She’d just shucked the dress when Fiala’s concerned dulcet came from the door. Hurriedly slipping into her robe she took a deep breath and headed back through the room. There wasn’t a need to go far, their host already inside and locking the door shut behind her. She looked from Paz to the door and back again, face a mask of worry.

“Is everything alright?” she wanted to know, carefully watching her untangle several of her braids. “Sam’s out there. May I bring him in?”

“No,” Paz quickly refused, sure she sounded like a brat. She tried again, voice softer as she tied her robe tight. “No, thank you. I needed to speak with you anyway.”

“Paz!”

“Shut up!” she barked at the door, nervously twisting her feet together. The room was spinning again, her insides reminding her she’d had too much to drink. Rooted to the spot, Fiala studied her until she caved and sighed. “I…told him the truth.”

“Oh.” As if everything made sense now Fiala stepped closer, hands clasping at her waist. To the door she hollered, “Give us a moment if you’d be so kind, Sam. We’ll…figure this out, I believe.”

There was no response beyond another huff. Joining Paz, Fiala set an arm around her waist, guiding her to the bed. “Darling, perhaps divulging such painful truths when under the influence isn’t the best idea. He was very upset.”

“I know,” Paz grumbled, perching on the edge, Fiala doing the same next to her. She glanced down at her hands,anxiously lacing fingers together. “I just…I couldn’t wait any longer. Besides, there are more important things to think about. Fiala, I…I need your help.”

“You look unwell,” the other woman remarked, pressing a hand to Paz’s forehead. “I would say you do need my help. Too much to drink?”

Paz nodded, impatiently waiting for Fiala to get to the point. She wanted to talk business, not relationships and all that bullshit.

“Here, I think I’ve got something for that.” Digging into a small pocket at her side she opened a miniature tin, a cache of pills suddenly at her disposal. They looked like the migraine tablets Val would sometimes take when Paz got on her nerves a bit too much. Taking several she swallowed them, sure whatever Fiala had would be much more effective than whatever Val usually carried. Fiala smiled in relief afterwards, encouraging Paz to take her time.

“There, dear. We’ve all the time in the world to talk now. Are you sure you’d rather not speak to Sam? Poor boy’s pacing out there.”

Uttering a faint laugh, Paz was sure that was the case. “No, but thank you. He’ll—we’ll be alright. For now I just need to…need to tell you something.”

“Was everything to your liking?” Fiala wondered, always a host first and foremost. Fiddling with her robe’s fabric Paz shrugged away her concern.

“Ah, ye, definitely. Thanks. I…I just…we didn’t crash here.”

With each word her voice grew smaller. Cringing, Paz gauged Fiala’s reaction but the woman stared back, expectant. She even patted a hand.

“The thing is,” she softly continued with a gulp, “Val probably hasn’t gotten back to you because…I haven’t been on the Osiris in a while.”

Now Fiala’s brow creased. “I’m sorry? I don’t understand.”

It’d be painful no matter what so Paz let it all out at once, words jumbled. “So, the Osiris did get jumped in Daysturis and long story short we lost all our lotus and they…took me, too.”

Fiala wasn’t convinced. “Why would they take you?”

Paz laughed nervously. “Good question. I honestly don’t know myself, but they told me I wouldn’t return to the Osiris unless I got something from…from you, but…”

She paused, words twisting on her tongue. Fiala still watched her, gaze piercing and it made her exponentially more anxious about this entire affair, thoughts unable to form coherently.

_Concentrate, you need her help_.

“You don’t look good,” Fiala suddenly spoke, rising from the bed and hovering over her. She pressed a hand to her forehead once more, the motion near knocking Paz over. Both giggled but Fiala held Paz by the shoulders, examining her thoroughly. Paz thought she ought to keep going but her tongue wouldn’t work, the appendage too slow and clumsy. Gaze lowered, she wavered haphazardly. Her stomach burned, heat radiating to the rest of her core. Perhaps drinking so much hadn’t been a good idea, but she’d known that even before taking a sip.

“Topaz,” even Fiala commented, holding her against a hip. “You do not look well. Hold on—oh, you poor dear, let me get Sam.”

That was a horrible idea but Paz couldn’t object, falling to the mattress the second Fiala let go. Heat covered her body, pressing hard at her muscles, her ears ringing louder and louder. She could feel their host trotting to the door though that was the last thing on her mind. Her limbs tingled painfully, insides squirming together in sudden, angry movements. It didn’t feel right and she tried curling to one side, internal rejection rushing up like a wave. This was not…

It felt like no time at all when hands were on her, shaking her like a doll. Eyelids fluttering she almost smiled to see Reeser’s face mere inches from hers, panic scrawled across his features. He was definitely shouting, she could feel his breath hitting her skin, shaking more pronounced. Everything was. She needed to be concerned, didn’t she? Yes, she needed to.

Her attempt to stay conscious resulted in her jerking forward, muscles seizing. That hurt like a motherfucker but she tried again regardless. This did not feel right. What had Fiala given her? She asked, sure it was a slur. Almost immediately Reeser’s panic wrenched into something very ugly and his attention focused elsewhere. He looked pissed which finally gave her some concern, jaw grinding in fear she might puke. That wouldn’t be good. Oh no, she told herself even as she felt her insides ripping up, that really wouldn’t be—


	15. Ch 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The jig's up: Fiala knows something's going on, and she's more than ready to use Paz to get the credits she believes she's owed. With Reeser now in a bit of a pickle, it's up to Paz to fix the mess she's created.  
> DISCLAIMER: I honestly don't know how the human body really tolerates electricity but I'm sure it's horrible, 10/10 would advise against it.

Much as she whined about never getting to experience regular life, space was preferable to the Federation’s colonies and byways, always. It was everlasting, never ending, and always changing. She loved it. Anything could happen out there, yet when she was on her own she had the utmost peace. There was no fear, no worry, no forcing herself to be something she couldn’t be.

She liked it there, loved it.

X

There was a pinch, and suddenly Paz hurtled out of the void, eyes snapping wide open, every nerve on fire. She jerked one way, dizzily taking in blurry surroundings. Sitting up her head swam, sweat rolling down her neck, muscles thrumming with false adrenaline. Below her a garish red coated her lap and most of the robe, and then—

Alright, she hadn’t expected to vomit but here she was, doing just that. When it was over she lowered her head, gasping for air.

From what she could tell she was still in her designated room, having never really left the bed. It looked darker but that was about it. That part didn’t concern her so much as something hard and unforgiving wrapped tight around her neck. She had a feeling she knew what it was, wobbly legs stretching and looking for the floor.

“Welcome back, dear.”

Oh, this was going to be just _great_. Not bothering to move (or look) Paz hunched into herself, shivering. Fiala’s pretty shoes echoed loudly on the ground. This; _this_ was what a hangover felt like, it had to be.

“How do you feel?” Fiala asked, voice tight, business-like. For the most part Paz felt alive so that was cool. When a hand reached up to her neck however she sneered at smooth metal clamping around flesh. Fiala’s servants wore the same. She’d thought nothing of it earlier, had barely let it register, but now—

“Take this off,” she croaked, voice raw. She coughed several times, more blood coming up, body weak. Regardless, she fiddled with the choker until it issued a sharp, electric buzz—her warning.

“Because I like you,” Fiala started, a hand pressing down on Paz’s shoulder, sending her toppling over, “I won’t bother lying.”

“Take this off,” Paz repeated, heart pounding with worry as she peeked up at the dark glass. Her legs quivered uselessly, body unwilling to obey. It felt like she was two completely different people, one hoarse with exhaustion and the other roaring with energy.

“I’m very aware Valeree dislikes me at the moment,” her host continued, hovering just over the Hylerian and surveying her with little interest. “She’s sent _eight_ separate threats on my life and I’ve already dispelled one of her hired guns. To come here with such a sappy story was brave of you, dear, but please understand I run an empire and it will not fall to Valeree’s ragtag shuttle.”

Stepping out of view she left Paz to struggle some more. The collar’s latter shocks weren’t nearly as nice as the first. So distracted by blinding heat she couldn’t tell who was in the room or not, but goddamn did Fiala’s shoes make a lot of noise.

“She wouldn’t be pissed if you’d just p-pay her,” Paz choked, fingers scrabbling around the metal.

“I owe her nothing,” corrected the other woman, tone proud. “That trade made us even, if anything. But Topaz, your captain owes me a hell of a lot now. I have you, and she’s offered a hefty bounty on your head. Therefore, we’re going to give her a call and have her come pick you up. Depending on how nice she is, maybe I won’t have her killed once the credits come through. What do you think?”

All in all it was a pretty decent plan. Paz didn’t like it, obviously, but it was solid. Ignoring another shock she pulled hard at her collar.

“She won’t buy it,” she rasped at Fiala, thrashing uselessly. Fiala’s cold laugh was her answer.

“She notified the Nav of your disappearance; the _entire_ Federation knows you’re missing. I don’t believe she’s thinking very clearly. Do you?”

Val had reported her missing to the Royal Nav? Fuck, that wasn’t good. Why would she tell them? Paz always popped back up, _somewhere_ —Val had never resorted to relying on the Federation before, but maybe it was because the tattoo was gone. Maybe once it’d ceased its signal…? Ugh, regardless, that was still incredibly embarrassing.

“That’s very risky to her business,” Fiala concluded, thinking the same as Paz. “So, if I tell her I have you, you can bet she’ll come pick you up and then some. I could probably ask for more than what she’s put out there for your capture. Seems she wants you safe, not dead.”

She paused, stepping closer. Paz tried not looking at the pretty woman, her betrayal something she wished she’d foreseen. Pretty people kept fucking her over: maybe she needed to stop trusting them. “Tell me, what do you do for her that makes you worth ninety mil?”

_Ninety_?! Holy fuck, Paz wasn’t worth that, she knew she wasn’t. This was so damned embarrassing. She struggled more loopily, sure that wasn’t right. “Ninety? No. No, that’s too much—are you _sure_? I don’t do enough to warrant that.”

“No need to be modest,” Fiala tutted, still standing over her. “I’ve heard of your exploits. I know you’ve some gifts. But yes, ninety _is_ a bit much. Tell me, Topaz. Bring your captain here so I can kill her, or should I keep you? What can you do for me?”

This wasn’t a negotiable thing. Nearly choking again from delirious laughter Paz shook her pulsing head. “Oh nah, I can’t do anything for you. Sorry.”

“Then you’d like her dead?” mused Fiala, nodding like that made sense. Placing a hand to one temple Paz watched her scroll through her comm’s contacts. “Alright, if that’s you—”

“You shouldn’t do that,” she interrupted, struggling to sit up, the whole planet rocking beneath her. “She won’t come.”

Fiala’s smile was doubtful. “You sound confident. Topaz, you wouldn’t be alive right now if I didn’t think otherwise.”

“And I appreciate that,” Paz snapped back, “but she won’t come. She’s not stupid.”

Attempting to leave the bed sent a powerful shock through her system. Paz clattered to the ground, an overdue exhaustion kicking in. She felt horrible yet somehow still so wired, heart going a million beats per second but everything else nigh useless. Fiala’s titter was almost sympathetic.

“Stay where you are, darling. Wouldn’t want your mother worrying, would you?”

Val wasn’t her mother. Everyone knew that. Still, Paz remained on the floor, mind churning with potential ways out of this. There weren’t a lot of options and it didn’t help she couldn’t sense much but, theoretically, if she could get the choker off she could free herself. Just give her a window to break or whatnot and she’d zip away. But—

“Sam,” she automatically gasped, rolling over, gaze focusing on the glittering ceiling. “Where’s Sam? He was—where is he?”

“The freeloader?” Stepping back, Fiala was distracted with her comm once more. “Worry not—he’s being minded. There’s a bounty on him though, so we’ll see if Val wants to trade. I have a feeling she—.” Pausing, her face lit up “Hello Valeree. Yes, I did receive your—yes. Ah, no.”

Even though she couldn’t hear it Paz knew Val was screeching at Fiala. The woman actually covered one ear as if it might help, cringing dramatically and widening her pace. “No, I—would you shut up? For gods’ sakes, just listen—no, I don’t intend to pay you. Why would I? You _know_ what you owe me. Now listen or I’ll float this ugly little creature I’ve found.”

Smirking wryly at the title, Paz shifted restlessly. She wanted to inch away from the bed, or at least away from her own mess. Fiala was a pretty good actress. She’d thought they had a genuine connection but of course, credits did usually get in the way of relationships.

There was another silent stretch, followed by Fiala’s haughty sneer. “ _Yes_. Yes, I have her. She claimed she was just floating about—yes, of course she’s alive. Topaz, tell Val you’re alive.”

She didn’t even have to be prodded—she was screaming the second her collar sent another shock through her bones. _That_ one fucking hurt, leaving her twisted awkwardly on the ground. Fiala sniffed mildly.

“See? Alive. Now, would you like her and her friend or not?”

Paz froze. Val wouldn’t know which friend she meant. Still twitching she rolled over, groaning. “Hold on.”

Fiala paid her no mind. She was busy listening to whatever Val was saying, a brilliant smile crossing her lips. “Mhmm. Interesting. No, no, she definitely came with a friend, a Sam.” Her eyes widened with delight and she turned to study Paz’s wobbling figure. “Don’t worry about any extras? Valeree, you’re as heartless as I recall.”

Whatever Val lobbed back just made the woman laugh. She tottered back to Paz, eyeing her with newfound interest. Paz watched while she nodded some more, finally crossing her arms and telling Val she’d be right here waiting. Presumably finished she sighed and crouched next to the Hylerian, her pretty dress pooling on the floor.

“She doesn’t care about your friend so I think I’ll keep…well, I’ll keep you both but him especially. Now, be a dear and tell me the truth. I know that’s not Sam—I’m not blind. What’s his name, darling?”

“What?” Paz wheezed, frowning. She needed time to recover, anything to stall Fiala. Fiala’s gentle palm pulled along her cheek, carrying a calm warning.

“Tell me,” she goaded, voice too pleasant for the situation. “Unless you’d like him dead. I can do it—or Valeree. I’m sure she wouldn’t care if it was Sam, either. Either one, take your pick.”

“I really didn’t expect things to go this wrong,” gasped Paz, more offended she was threatening Reeser than anything. “Kind of thought you’d be more chill.”

“Don’t stall,” the other woman disapproved, clucking her tongue. “I know what you’re here for.”

But she didn’t! This could have been easily fixed if she’d just finished her speech earlier!

“Fiala, I need your help,” she bargained, fingers gingerly touching at the collar. “I n-need you to hide us, okay? Whatever you’re thinking you’ve got it—”

Oh, Fiala really enjoyed using the shocker. Writhing on the ground Paz gave up for now, sure she didn’t want to feel that again. Satisfied, Fiala rose and stepped for the door. She didn’t give much more thought for Paz, casually talking into her comm.

“Ye, bolster defenses. She’ll be here in no time, I’m sure. Now, as for the boy…”

She was musing over what to do with Reeser’s carcass as she slid the door shut, leaving Paz blessedly alone. Paz was still for maybe two seconds, catching her breath and then pushing back upright, dizzily looking about once more. Fuck, Reeser was dead if she didn’t do something. She’d _known_ this would happen!

Who cared how she’d gotten into this—she needed a way out, and quickly. If Fiala had left her in here unsupervised then chances were the collar had a range. It needed to go first. Brute strength wasn’t going to work so it’d need to be broken from the inside out. Okay, it had to run off electricity or bio-matter, like ships. What did those cross with…?

She let her thoughts wander back to what she’d paid attention to on the Osiris, from Sentia and Mandrelle in her earlier days. They’d always warned her about not frying herself on any equipment because it could short circuit and blow a whole load of systems, not to mention her.

She’d done it once, and survived. Personally, she’d thought Sentia was a little disappointed. But if the choker worked anything like a ship then it had to be able to short.

She made a beeline for the washroom, relieved to find there was no warning for going in there. Shoving on the sink she plunged both hands under the spigot, eagerly washing bloody matter off her arms. Her front was no better from her mouth to lap, Fiala’s robe ruined. Gods, what had happened? That was stripped next, Paz self-consciously ignoring the purple scarring on her belly and washing up best she could. She knew she was waisting precious time but no one would take her seriously if she looked horrible.

Toweling off she ran back to the bed and pulled on her other clothes, leaving her suit unzipped in case she managed getting the choker off. Sure enough, the closer she drew to the door the more it hummed, ready to keep her imprisoned.

“Come on,” she told herself, whipping around, eyes scanning the room. “There’s gotta be something. You’ve got this.”

She hoped she did. In several minutes she’d yanked open every cabinet and drawer in the room, rifling through everything available and coming up short. The washroom had some sort of useful items but she couldn’t combine them together to do anything. The more time she wasted the more panicked she grew, certain Reeser was being skinned as she pulled combs and other stupid baubles from under the sink. Fuck, why wasn’t there anything good?

Pissed, a fist slammed against the mirror, the entire thing crashing down and shattering on the counter. Flinching, Paz looked down at the mess and then up at the empty wall. Well, not quite empty. Wiring…there was a whole mess of wires back there, some of which had connected to the mirror for stat displays.

Perfect, maybe.

She grabbed a fistful and yanked them out, pleased when sparks momentarily flew. This wouldn’t work if it was running on bio but she had to try. Fiala didn’t know who she’d just attempted stabbing in the back.

Okay, electricity could flow through people. She knew that from painful experience. If the collar was projecting through her then she could project back. That’d been a great threat in her childhood. The trick was…alright, there was no trick, just endurance. She took a deep breath and grasped her collar with one hand, the other holding tightly to the wiring. It’d hurt, but it could be done. Eyes shut, she ignored the sharp sting from the collar, palm closing over the wires.

Electricity surged through her, burning like hell and highlighting what a stupid idea this was. For several seconds she couldn’t breathe, paralyzed as an external force bucked through her muscles. Even so she kept her grip on the collar, willing it to die. It had to. She had to get back to Reeser. Killing him hadn’t been the idea.

How long would this take? She could barely think, pain making her quiver. It had to be enough, didn’t it?

Her left wrist buzzed sharply, more electricity emanating from the bracelet Coram slapped on, making her shriek. She was forced to let go, stumbling back and toppling to the floor, hunching just enough to miss banging her head on the bathtub’s lip. Dazed, she lay where she was, hissing to herself until the worst of it flickered out of her system, ears still ringing obnoxiously. That had been…ugh, what a stupid idea.

Yet as the collar clattered to the floor in a useless heap of metal she had to smile in relief. The bracelet fell off, too—she was so happy she could cry. Taking several more deep breaths she found the strength to pull back to her feet, pocketing the bracelet just in case.

The washroom was a mess, just like the entire room she realized as she stumbled out, but it didn’t matter anymore. They could lock every door in here but she’d still make her way forward.

She felt…alive. So fucking alive. It was a wonderful feeling.

The door was no obstacle now. Fiala must’ve been sure of herself because no sentries guarded the upper halls. Dull knife in hand regardless Paz pushed for the stairs, senses tingling like they’d just received a new lease on life. It felt incredible, and she worried the sensation would end soon so she made a vow to get to Reeser as soon as possible. He was the only thing that mattered. She knew he was somewhere downstairs, could envision him tied up and locked in some little room. Fiala was nearby, as were some of either her guards or servants. Paz couldn’t tell them apart, not yet.

The stairs took forever. She pounded past the main level, diving into a darkened hall, synapses pulsing with adrenaline. There were people around, she knew there were, forcing her to tread a bit more quietly, ears straining to pick up on any potential Reeser related noise.

Twisting around she found his bitter ramblings not too far down the hallway, sure two guards standing before a locked door would be her next target. No other doors were guarded, and she just knew Reeser’s soft mumbling was coming from there. She sure hoped he wasn’t talking about anything sensitive.

Crouching behind a pillar she took a few more breaths, lulling herself into a killing calm, creeping along the shadows like a cat. This was it. Val wanted her to do it anyway. She wouldn’t have if Fiala played nice, but again, credits always got in the way. Or some kind of weird rivalry? She wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t her business anyway.

Knife clutched tight she worked her way toward the closest sentry, the last time she’d pulled something like this eons ago. Actually, it hadn’t been that long ago, but it certainly felt that way. She usually only resorted to this kind of behavior when everything was a mess.

Which, right now, it was. Fiala didn’t get to toy with Reeser.

The first one gasped when she shoved the knife through his neck, pulling him down to the floor. His partner noticed but she’d already moved onto him, tackling and stabbing him in the same manner. With them both writhing on the ground she grabbed one of their rifles, blasting plasma through their torsos…and the ground.

Did she feel bad? When she stepped aside and surveyed her morbid work, yeah, a little. This was Fiala’s fault though, not hers.

Readying her rifle at the door her mind went on autopilot. She’d prefer to fill the door with several rounds of plasma but Reeser could get hurt, so she opted for plucking a clearance card off a guard, swiping it across the door’s reader. It whooshed open and she aimed her new gun. Fiala was in there. She knew she was.

She was. Turning just as she finished up a lecture her pretty eyes went wide with shock, mouth popping open likewise. Smiling right back Paz rested the heavy weapon on her shoulder.

“Told you to take it off.”

“Let’s talk about this,” Fiala breathlessly exclaimed, taking nervous steps backward until her bum hit reinforced glass panelling. Reeser stood behind it, relief flooding his face as he pounded on the glass. Glad he wasn’t already dead Paz indulged Fiala’s wish. Why not? The woman was scared and if she dared call for backup she’d dispose of them as well. Several servants cowered in a corner, an unfortunate side effect. They went ignored.

“Alright,” Paz leveled, stepping into the room, rifle trained on their host. She couldn’t feel her face any longer, but she was sure she had that calm, lethal look she usually got when things when this bad. “Make me believe everything you just said wasn’t true and I won’t redecorate your dungeon. How’s that sound?”

Fiala’s expression simmered. “You’re certainly good at bargaining.”

“I am,” agreed Paz, never wavering. “So—no arguments? Great. I’ll let Val know. Reeser, get down.”

Both did, but at least Reeser pushed away, ready to be freed. Paz still hesitated. She _did_ like Fiala—she was one hell of a clever woman who apparently ran a huasca empire.

“Last chance,” she offered, Fiala’s dainty hands covering her ears and making this difficult. Reminding herself she’d already killed two guards she waited several more seconds, the other woman obviously stalling for time, likely calling for help on her comm.

She couldn’t have that. With nothing left to wait for Paz sighed, lining up her sight. “Wish you would’ve paid Val. Sorry.”

Fiala screamed, but that was it. Her lungs wheezed once the plasma hit, a healthy bit of matter splattering behind her, the glass itself cracking from leftover plasma. The queen of huasca, one of Val’s oldest friends, and a pretty great lover, was gone.

“Thank the motherfucking stars,” Reeser moaned from his spot, collapsing on the ground. He propped himself up on an elbow a beat later, eyebrows raised in wonder. “How the fuck are you alive? You OD’d and—”

“On what?” Paz demanded, picking her way through Fiala’s remains to the glass. It required access but she threw a shoulder into its already cracked exterior, the rest splintering with ease. Scrambling to his feet Reeser helped, shouldering it the rest of the way.

“Huasca. Bitch said you took it. Did you?”

Not that she… _oh,_ that was what the pills were. Swearing, she helped pull Reeser to her side, both taking careful steps. “Fuck! Ye, I did. Come on, we’ll worry about that later—we gotta get out of here.”

“Why would you take _anything_ from her?” he rudely inquired, following her out the room and back into the dim halls. At least he didn’t say anything about the guards, picking up a rifle and readying it like he did it all the time. For whatever reason that made Paz think of the cowering servants. She stuck her head back in the room, uttering a quick apology for the mess, and then they were racing down the hall, the stairs too far no matter how close they were.

“She do anything to you?” she panted, eyes focused ahead. Reeser grunted.

“No. Had me cuffed and put in that box. Yah, why’d you accept anything from her?”

Oh, right. Paz didn’t have much of an answer other than she’d trusted Fiala. “I ah…didn’t think she’d try killing me? And she didn’t! That was—that was my bad.”

“No shit,” he bitterly snickered, slowing down. “Damn. Least we’re alive. Alright, let’s get that artifact and book it.”

Groaning, Paz didn’t even stop. “Nope. Let’s go— _now_ , while we can.”

“You know she was calling for backup,” he argued, voice getting smaller and smaller until she had to stop, legs like jelly as she turned to glare. He stood there completely oblivious to the fact they were going to be boxed in. “It’s gonna be hell getting out either way, we might as well do what we came here for.”

She wanted to bitch at him but he was standing there, determination obvious, certain they could actually do this. Personally she was very into waiting around in the vicinity until Val arrived (she hoped she would soon), but…fuck, Val only knew Reeser as the guy who’d kidnapped her.

If Reeser was still with her, and she had a feeling he’d stick with her no matter what, Val wouldn’t take kindly to him. Unless she wanted Reeser dead she needed to get him back to the Lakai first. Motherfucking dicks, all of them…

Grumbling unhappily she loped back to him, steeling herself for the next slog. “I hate you.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” he brightly answered, beckoning her back down the hell. “Remember the plan where you were going to sneak in quietly? I really liked that one.”

“Oh, shut up.”

They made good time, winding through the lowest level until the found the door marked ‘indirect.’ Certain the upper levels were quickly filling with reinforcements Paz grew anxious. Her card didn’t work here no matter how she swiped it. Instead, she and Reeser blasted at the door until it clattered to the ground, leaving a smoking black hole in the wall. Doing so did indeed trip an alarm, the house filling with an ear-splitting screech. Standing at the edge of the hole, Reeser shouted at her to find the damned thing.

She barged in, racing through row after row of large crates, relying on her senses to hone in on a crate shoved near the back and masked by several old containers leaking…something. Toeing over those she pulled on the intended crate, wrestling it out and settling it atop another, cleaner stack. Up ahead several shots pinged through the air, followed by Reeser’s concentrated shout to hurry the fuck up.

If she weren’t so frazzled she might appreciate his tenacity but right now it just made it harder to open the crate. It was locked, of course, but she could feel that stick inside and everything in her told her to grab it. She didn’t even want it; she just needed it. That’d show Coram. Tch, he thought she couldn’t hack it out here on her own, that she needed some kind of babysitter. Well guess what, dickhead? She did it without his help in the slightest.

The box wasn’t cracking fast enough so she took the rifle’s butt to one edge, busting it clean. Foam pellets spilled out, her free hand digging right in and clearing any excess. Her fingers brushed over something cold and hard and she paused, an unnatural shudder climbing her spine. She’d…felt that before. Hadn’t she? She couldn’t recall.

“Hope you picked the right box,” came Reeser’s loud warning, a constant barrage of shots coming from his direction. Refocusing, her fingers closed around the cool stone, singed palm finding immediate comfort. Her body froze of its own accord. The artifact…

Humming. She could hear it clearly through alarms and gunfire. It wasn’t like something she’d hear from a person, but something so low it…pushed against her bones. Drawing it from the box she stared down at the thing, a stick no bigger than her forearm.

Coram was right, it was incredibly old, milky flecks coming off just by her holding it. But it was beautifully carved, the notches making some sort of pattern when observed in person. The longer she stared the more it looked like a system’s drive core, but it couldn’t be. He’d said it was old; it couldn’t be a drive.

“Paz!”

A heavy crash thundered over the room. Clutching the stick tight she shoved from the crates, hurrying for the entrance. Still holding her rifle she stuffed the stick down her shirt, hoping it’d stay put. Joining Reeser she was dismayed to find the wall completely obliterated, plasma eating at remaining metal and concrete. Reeser was behind a crate, shooting recklessly from his position at a whole slew of sentries holding down the hall. Fuck, they’d gotten here quickly.

And fuck, the artifact was still humming. She needed some peace, needed a moment to really look at the thing. For now it’d have to wait. Hunkering down behind the crate she let plasma fly.

The hall erupted in a mess of blinding heat, bodies falling faster than they could be refilled. Panicked as she’d been earlier the killing calm had returned, joining with that leftover adrenaline. Together, she and Reeser destroyed anything that happened across their sight.

In a lull she pushed into the war zone, Reeser following. They couldn’t hear a thing, not out here in the thick of it, but she could feel more coming down the stairs. At some point they would run out of firepower, but it might truly be now or never. They had to risk it.

Grabbing new rifles from the pile of corpses they bolted for the stairs, both stumbling up as quickly as they could and dashing across the main floor with wild abandon. Servants froze where they were, never once impeding their run but guards did. They took turns taking them out, the smell of plasma burning in the once pristine air, furniture melting and debris falling from the rafters. Whenever their rifles overheated they’d grab new ones. Truly, it was a free for all up until they hit the decontamination port.

A horde of sentries were easy enough to weed through but the port wouldn’t budge open despite her clearance card and beyond that—

“Why didn’t you bring my suit?!” Reeser exclaimed, pacing furiously, eyes wildly watching the foyer for any activity. Shrugging helplessly, Paz was already shedding hers.

“Take mine,” she explained, hopping out and handing it over. “It’s something, at least.”

“I can’t _breathe_ that shit!” he shouted back, face nearly red as his hair.

Right. Stumped, Paz swept back around, a terrified crowd of servants staring back at her and her companion. Most didn’t appear genuinely upset but she was sure they didn’t appreciate their master’s death. Surely word had gotten out, probably already out to the fields and regulatory houses on the property.

Wait a minute, she’d been here before. There was a hangar on the east side of the house for Fiala’s property rigs and ships for cargo delivery. Why hadn’t she thought of that earlier?

“Put it on anyway,” she hollered back, practically jumping with anxious energy. “We’re taking a rig.”

He stared at her, suit lifeless in his hands. “We’re…?”

“You heard me—hurry up!”

She stood watch until he zipped up, and then they were off and running once more, giving Fiala’s servants a wide birth and crossing the destroyed house. By now she was back on autopilot, taking turns and sliding down corridors from memory. They’d reach the hangar just beyond Fiala’s huge, industrial sized kitchen. All they had to do was get there in once piece and that was looking promising. She couldn’t sense too many more people inside the house.

Finally! The door to the hangar came into view as they slid through the kitchen. Her hands had just grabbed the reader when a shot echoed from behind, Reeser’s cry following too quickly. Whipping about Paz abandoned the door, scrambling to Reeser’s collapsed side. He was bellowing bloody murder and when she pulled him to his back she was dismayed to find his left foot severed and…oh, _fuck_ , that was gruesome. They’d gone for his foot?!

Still hovering over him she glanced up, scanning the kitchen. At the edge of the room, just beyond a corner she spotted a sentries’ shoulder armor. Lucky enough to never worry about property damage Paz raised her rife, aimed, and let a blast of plasma scream through the air, hitting the wall’s edge and sentry in the process. If anymore wanted to come at them she’d be ready, and she shouted just as much in case anyone could hear.

“Holy fuck,” Reeser gasped beneath her, face deathly pale. He writhed in her arms, clearly uncomfortable. “Holy fuck! What the fuck was that for?!”

Too much was going on for her to think properly. Paz rose, hauling him with despite his frantic protests.

“No! Put me down! Paz, my fucking foot! It’s—gah! It’s _fucking wrecked_!”

“Shut up!” she shouted in his ear, maneuvering him until he was hauled over one shoulder. Despite his shakiness she handed him her rifle in case it was needed. “It’s still there, alright? We’ll get it taken care of in just a second.”

“Fuck you!”

His struggling made it difficult but she staggered toward the door once more, relieved she could at least stand. Using her clearance they pushed into the hangar, a large, spacious building with Fiala’s ships all meticulously lined up and waiting to go. Even better, it was quiet in there. Jogging toward the nearest row she twirled, giving Reeser a good view.

“Which one could you pilot?” she dizzily asked, dearly wishing she wasn’t stuck carrying him. Still, it was just the two of them and she’d never leave him, not now. One arm listlessly waved, Reeser indicated the nearest one.

“Any of them,” he raggedly panted, cursing between breaths. “Just—fuck, just get me in one and we’ll be out of here.”

That was the best thing he ever said. She shuffled to the first available rig, a nice cruiser clearly meant for joy rides, carefully prying open the underbelly and shoving him up the ladder as nicely as she could. His foot was completely wrecked. It was still attached, sure, but there was a lot of blood. He swore and moaned the entire way up, but through some miraculous energy he managed, pulling himself inside while she watched their backs. She couldn’t sense anyone near the hangar but one could never be too sure, not now.

“I need clearance!”

She jumped for the underbelly, already climbing the ladder. “Coming!”

Emerging inside she was impressed by the size of the rig, quickly following Reeser’s bloody trail through a spacious hall crammed with multi-use rooms to the cockpit. He was already posed in the pilot’s seat and she would’ve smiled if he didn’t look so pained to be there. He grabbed the card once it was offered, swiping through a mess of monitors on the dash. Despite his injury, he at least appeared more collected in his usual spot.

Anxiously watching him get to work she plopped down in the copilot’s seat, body thanking her. Once they got going she’d look around for towels and any emergency kits for his foot. For now, she needed to distract him.

“Didn’t know you could really use a gun.”

He didn’t bother looking her way, sweating heavily and checking the dash once more before requesting clearance for the roof. “I _was_ in the Nav, remember?”

Right. She’d forgotten about that, assuming he always piloted and nothing more. Flushing, she reached into her shirt and pulled out the artifact, cradling it in her lap. “Well, you were really, really impressive.”

That was the only compliment he’d likely ever get from her. Smirking sickly, Reeser throttled the engine, both of them watching through the dash as the roof retracted. The dark sky suddenly filtered above them, open and endless.

“Ye, you’re pretty impressive yourself,” he distractedly replied. “Didn’t think you’d even survive. Fuck, you’re lucky.”

Paz grinned, shutting heavy eyelids while the rig lifted, thruster noisy in the background. “If you say so. Didn’t mean to kill Fiala. I mean, I did, but not—not like that.”

He didn’t respond, focusing everything he had on lifting the rig. As they rose she’d occasionally lift an eyelid to check on him, gaze always wandering downwards to see huasca fields for as far as the eye could see. On the other side of the house rovers were parked, having clearly expected them to come out through the port. That, she thought, was funny.

The higher they rose the more her body pulled her down into her seat, telling her to rest. She didn’t want to, there were still things to do, but his silence made it hard to concentrate on why her pounding heart needed to be bothered more, and it was pounding madly. All she wanted to do was rest.

And then there was the stupid artifact, her filthy hands holding it tight, its hum constant and soothing. Why did it hum? Did Coram know about that or was it just her?

To her left Reeser was incredibly thrilled once he figured out the controls, pain forgotten and ending their hovering when he threw the rig up and forward. It pushed them both into their seats for a couple seconds, the roar of speed overpowering remaining thrusters. They soared clear past Fiala’s estate, rocketing across Hiduron’s sky for the stratosphere. Proud of himself, and also proud they’d made it out with their lives _and_ a fantastic new ship, he finally allowed himself to relax, babying his foot. Gods, it felt good to be alive.

“Alright,” he started, exhaling loudly and propping the injured limb up on the dash with a pained grimace. “You check for supplies and then tell me what happened when she was speaking to you. Gods, you’re right—at least it’s still attached.”

Getting no response he twisted, ready to bitch at her some more for not already running around looking for some medigel. “Paz?”

She’d slumped over the edge of her chair, hands still clutching the artifact, the rest of her body convulsing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (thus ends our 2nd brush with Paz's horrible ability to escalate things waaaaay too quickly :D )


	16. Ch 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aw man, Paz's still alive and still stuck on the Lakai. >:(

Aim’s face was the first thing her sleepy eyes took in. It wasn’t alarming given her exhaustion but she did want to laugh at the white hat the doctor wore because—

Goddamnit, there was another tube down her throat. Struggling upright she was already gagging, freaking out and encouraging the doctor to do the same. There were a million things she needed to be doing and choking wasn’t one of them.

Her hands flew to her chest, searching for the artifact. It was gone. Fuck, it was gone. She’d been trying to figure it out, trying to understand why it gave off such a weird vibe. And Reeser! Oh fuck, Reeser! Where was he?!

“Okay, hold on,” Aim frantically gushed, trying to push Paz back down. “You’re gonna suffocate yourself.”

No duh. Frustrated tears sprang to her eyes. She fought Aim off, rolling away. Since she was back on the stupid med table this resulted in a heavy crash. Supplies flew and the offending tube ripped right out, Paz screaming/heaving appropriately. That _hurt_.

“I bet it hurts!” Aim hollered over her wallowing, coming round to pick Paz up. Somehow she hadn’t jerked out of her IV’s so they were much more careful about getting her back on the table. “It should! Gods, you act like an animal, you know that? Head back, I’ll get some numbing spray.”

She couldn’t possibly tilt her head back, coughing and spitting up blood, limbs quivering in panic. Aim had no sympathy this time, lecturing while she sifted through several cabinets before returning with a numbing agent. Ignoring Paz’s hysterics she managed to pop her jaw open, spraying immediately.

“Swallow.”

Paz wouldn’t if Aim hadn’t made her, but soon enough a coolness slid down her throat, soothing the angry irritation and her alarm. She calmed somewhat, legs folding on the table and letting the meds do their work. Unable to really talk yet she feebly pointed at one foot, hoping Aim caught her drift. The doctor did, nodding curtly.

“He’s fine, no thanks to you.” She warily remained at the front of the table, studying the Hylerian. “I’m gonna give you a couple minutes. Then you’re gonna tell me exactly how the hell you managed to undo everything I spent _weeks_ rehabilitating for you. And it’d better be good. Otherwise, next time you pull this shit I’m letting you go. I’m _not_ keeping you alive if you won’t take it seriously.”

Swallowing thickly, Paz offered an obedient nod. She knew better than to cross the doctor by now. Okay, what had happened? They’d left Fiala’s house, Reeser had been piloting even though his foot was nearly blown off, and she’d held onto that artifact which she still wanted in her hands, by the way. Other than that she didn’t recall, but they must’ve made it back to the Lakai if she was in Aim’s care and Reeser was apparently alright. Glancing down at her hands she was surprised to find they were a myriad of scarred colors, swollen and numb. She hadn’t even realized they were so bad. Her insides had that same numb sensation, leading her to believe she’d certainly caused some damage. Tch, how was she supposed to know she was limited?

Clearing her throat she rasped out the best excuse she could think of. Val never questioned it when bailing her out. “Uh, I was drugged?”

“Don’t lie,” Aim growled, a finger jabbed her way. “Don’t you dare lie to me.”

Paling, she dizzily searched for a better answer. “Uh…it’s not…gonna be good.”

“Do you think I care?” The doctor wasn’t in the mood for waffling. “Tell me what you did or I’ll bring your least favorite person in here and make him get the truth. You want that?”

She might’ve been slow but Paz had no doubt Coram would enjoy that. Swallowing again, she grimaced. Numb or not it still hurt. “Um, probably a few things.”

“Like?”

“Drinking? And huasca.”

Rubbing a temple Aim looked like she was sorry she’d helped at all. “Anything else?”

Paz lifted a gnarled hand, scratchy voice small. “Got shocked, too.”

“Ye, I figured that out,” the other woman snapped, eyes shut tight. “What about the acid?”

Acid? What acid—oh. “Oh, the atmosphere there was full of it.”

“Didn’t you have a suit?”

“Ye, but they’re stuffy so I—”

“I think you’re on a mission to kill yourself,” Aim burst, one hand slamming on the table. She shoved off, pacing erratically. “Don’t wear a suit, consume all illicit substances you can get your hands on, get fucking shocked cos why not? Paz! You can’t do that! Your body’s not nearly as tough as you think it is, I promise.”

“It would be if you hadn’t gone and given it a makeover,” muttered her patient, cringing a second later once Aim was back in her face, seething.

“You’re the one who crunched through half a bag of lotus, not me! I am so sick and tired of your type always running around thinking there aren’t consequences! Do this again and I will personally float you.”

Frowning, Paz searched for something to say. She didn’t enjoy being called out and besides, it wasn’t like she would’ve died. She’d been fine when they’d left Fiala’s house. Reeser was the one who’d been in trouble. “Dude, I was fine. I was on the ship so why are you even—”

“You had so much adrenaline in your system it couldn’t take it,” Aim shouted back, cheeks ruddy. “Rhys thought you were dead coming back! We couldn’t get your heart working properly for shit until we found a counteragent. _Who_ gave you that much?”

“What?” No, that didn’t make sense. Paz had to push back. “No. No, that’s not—I was fine!”

“If you’d been fine you wouldn’t be in here,” argued Aim, arms crossing. “Who gave you enough adrenaline to kill a rhino?”

Fiala, probably, but it was what’d probably kept her ticking in the first place. Hadn’t Reeser said she’d overdosed? None of this made sense. Reeling, she thought hard, trying to put everything together. She’d drank a lot, sure, but Reeser said Fiala had given her huasca to ‘calm’ her down which, sure, it’d definitely done that but it’d interacted with…what, the booze? Or the acid? She hadn’t even noticed Hiduron’s noxious mist.

She set a palm against her forehead, a new anxiety coming over her. “I…talk to Reeser. I don’t know. Fiala, I guess.”

“Fiala Damante?” Aim clarified, voice going soft with disbelief. “The one you killed? Topaz, weren’t you the one calling _us_ a bunch of murderers?”

“That’s different,” Paz irritably replied, frown deepening. “That was—I had to. You wouldn’t get it.”

“Maybe I would,” Coram interrupted, sliding open the med door. Ready to vomit again Paz shot daggers at Aim, sure she’d called him.

“You motherfucker.”

Aim beamed pleasantly, stepping around the table to get closer. “You fucked yourself over, not me.”

“Get her cleaned up,” the captain ordered, staring very hard at Paz. She couldn’t look at him, his attention painful. “You and me, Topaz, we’ve got things to discuss.”

She couldn’t cooperate even if her life depended on it. While Aim removed several IV’s she pursed her lips, petulance rising in her sore chest. “I brought the stick back.”

“You did,” he curtly replied. “It’s safe.”

He had it on his person, she could feel it. “So then why do we need to talk?”

“Because you nearly killed my son,” Aim explained for Coram, slapping a bandage over Paz’s arm. “You nearly killed yourself, and then you killed a very prominent player in the huasca trade and half her team.”

Now Paz retched, leaning over the table. Reeser was Aim’s son? No one had told her that! And—okay, well when she thought about it they did both have those pretty green eyes. Ugh, she’d told him not to go.

“Alright, she’s good,” the doctor announced, backing off. “If I see her here again you know what I’ll do.”

Shifting uncomfortably, Paz shook her head. She wasn’t going with Coram. He’d gotten what he wanted. “Nah. I’m gonna…gonna head to my room, thanks. Gonna think about what I’ve done.”

“You’re gonna come with me,” he argued, tone neutral. When she started declining he added, “I have very little patience right now. Otherwise, I’d offer you up to the Nav for murder.”

That was not a good way to start a conversation.

“I could do the same,” she countered, quickly moving off the table and stepping away, backing herself into a corner. Everything felt so sluggish and cold, like she’d been resting on ice. Had she? “I could—”

“How?” he demanded in a snarl, steps taking him too close for comfort, his large body taking up too much room in front of her. Vulnerable, Paz shrank, lowered gaze trying not to wonder what his clenched fists could do. “Hm?”

Logic determined anything she might say was a bad idea. Thus, Paz found herself in the same office she’d been dragged into previously for briefings. She was highly pissed about it, cooped up and locked in there alone for at least ten minutes while Coram went to retrieve other things. She restlessly paced around chairs, insides churning with both nausea and worry. At least she was stable, but she couldn’t shake the rage clawing inside her. The feeling was instantly dismissed however when the captain returned with Reeser in tow. Her jaw popped open, quickly looking him over for any sign of trauma but finding none. His foot though! It’d been…man, it’d been ugly.

The second he saw her his face lit up and he opened his arms, demanding a hug. “My partner in crime is still alive!”

“You didn’t tell me your mom was my doctor!” she exclaimed, racing around the chairs and rushing to hug him anyway. Immediately her attention was on his boots, determining if he was limping or there was anything wrong. “What the hell, man? How are _you_ alive?! How’s your foot?”

“It’s fine,” he dismissed way too casually, careful not to hug her very tight. “Are you okay? Uh, you were a little bit _dead_ on the ride back. You’re lucky I paid _some_ attention to my mum who, by the way, is amazing for resurrecting you—”

“Uh, she’s pissy with me for not taking care of you!”

“She is?” Reeser’s face soured. “She’ll get over it, I’ll talk to her. I—”

“Sit down,” Coram spoke over them, impatiently waiting by the door in case certain persons wanted to escape. “Both of you. _Now_.”

Smiling regardless Reeser squeezed Paz’s shoulder, getting her into one seat before perching on her right. He faced forward while Paz sullenly faced the wall, eyeing Coram’s boots when he walked past. They haphazardly traveled to his ass a moment as he pulled something from his back pocket and tossed it on his desk—her broken wristlet.

She couldn’t not smirk over that. He should’ve known she’d get that off, intentional or not.

“So,” the captain pondered, heavily sitting down on his side of the room, hands clasped in his lap. “What the fuck happened? I was pretty sure that was going to be easy but one of you came back half dead and the other got a restructured foot out of the deal. Ah, and a notorious dealer is dead. What. The fuck. Happened?”

Reeser and Paz glanced at once another, the pilot taking the initiative. “Ah, right. So, like I told you before, it turns out she knew the woman who owned the estate. And…since it was heavily guarded when we ventured near, we changed plans.”

Paz contained her proud smile—he was going along with her stupid idea.

Coram clearly wasn’t. He stared at Reeser, unconvinced. When he tapped at Paz’s bracelet, the metal sparking, the pilot paled. “Try again with the truth. Least you weren’t so keen on abandoning ship.”

“You were listening?” Reeser stammered, shifting in his seat. “I was pinging you all the time—I thought we were out of range.”

Oh, the bracelet was his way of monitoring them? Paz was even more pleased she’d gotten it off now.

“Listened to its data once it was retrieved,” Coram explained, gaze flitting to Paz. “It was a great tool piecing shit together the past few days until we got to the part where she broke it.”

Her eyes rolled. “If you heard it then you know what happened.”

“Ye,” the captain flatlined, gaze narrowing. “You were going to take off with my pilot.”

“Nobody said his mom worked for you,” she started, certain she wouldn’t have bothered had she known. “I wouldn’t have—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Coram snapped, fist banging on the desk. “You put his life, your life, _everyone’s_ life in danger speaking to Fiala. Reeser, what’d you do when you were separated?”

Suddenly Reeser was meeker than ever, visibly shrinking in his chair, fiddling with his belt. “Sure. Ah, Fiala had me detained, questioned me a bit. I never told her a thing but she already knew some things—knew who I was, my affiliations, that sort of thing. She was contacting the Nav when…you know, when Paz shut her down.”

Anxiously twisting to eye him Paz’s guilt grew. She hadn’t known he’d been questioned like that. He hadn’t told her anything prior to their departure from Fiala’s home.

“Glad you’re alive but I would’ve preferred Fiala alive, too,” Coram remarked, looking to Paz again. He really wasn’t happy with her and somehow, that misery didn’t please her. “So you knew who she was? You were asking her for help.”

Paz shrugged. Fiala’s demise was worth it. “She had it coming. Plus she had Reeser.”

“You killed her,” Coram repeated, words dark. “Thought you said you wouldn’t kill for me.”

Going still, Paz inhaled, ribs aching from the stretch. Then she offered him her own stubborn gaze. “That wasn’t for you.”

“For Val?” he guessed, unwilling to break eye contact. She didn’t flinch, just as stubborn.

“She wanted Fiala dead. I follow her orders.”

“Ye, I noticed,” the captain dryly finished, sighing. “You make a very good slave, Topaz.”

“I’m sorry,” she bit back, hackles rising. He was lucky she hadn’t tried murdering him yet. “I don’t recall _begging_ to be here. I did as you asked, alright? What’s it matter how it happened? Everyone’s fine aside from Fiala’s team so fuck off until you’re ready for the next one.”

While Reeser winced Coram merely smirked. “You really think I’d send you out again? Ever?”

“You know what?” Paz stood up, shoulders rolling, heart pounding. She didn’t feel good. They should’ve had this conversation later when she was more level, when she’d thought things through better. Right now she just wanted to throttle him and she didn’t think her body could handle the exertion. “Do what you’d like. I told you you’d regret this. This is your fault, not mine.”

Opening the door she was dismayed but not surprised to find Desh. He shut the door in her face. In turn she stared at the metal frame. She really didn’t want to turn around.

“I can’t let you anywhere in Federation space,” Coram continued like she hadn’t even gotten up. “Your captain’s looking for you, as is the Nav. I can’t even collect if I turn you over. And if anyone figures out you killed Fiala, that’s just another strike on me.” He paused, clearing his throat. “Your master covered for you. For now. Her team cleaned up your mess better than I ever could—Fiala’s logs and systems are dead, too.”

So Val had come to Hiduron. She would’ve rescued Paz from all of this if she’d just waited. Forehead on the door she held in her tears, trying to bargain instead. “Send me back, then. She’ll pay—”

“She’d rather kill me first,” Coram darkly disagreed, forcing her to whip around, angrily wiping at her eyes.

“Not my problem. Send me back quietly and maybe she’ll have mercy. I’ll put in a good word for you.”

“I’m not sending you back, not yet.”

“Then what are you keeping me for?!” she shouted, throat blistering. The room was quiet a moment, and then Coram leaned forward, elbows on the desk. He looked like he wanted to say something but stopped, glancing apologetically at Reeser.

“You can go. I’ll add the extra credits to your comm. But—don’t mingle with her any longer.”

Reeser’s jaw popped but he didn’t protest, nodding and swiftly abandoning his seat. Too pissed to acknowledge him Paz moved aside, ignoring his whispered goodbye. Once the door shut behind him she curled her upper lip, unsure where to start. There were a lot of things she wanted to do at the moment, starting with ripping the captain’s head off.

“Don’t test me,” she warned, body quivering like a leaf. It didn’t matter she was all bark and no bite—she wasn’t going down without a fight. “I don’t care who you are, I _will_ fuck you up.”

“I know,” he promised, words soft. Still sitting at his desk he appeared almost reasonable. “I did some digging. I’ve seen your work. Sit down—let’s talk business.”

She didn’t budge. It was like he hadn’t just reprimanded her. What kind of stupid did he think she was?

“You got your stick,” she reminded him. “If you won’t give me back or send me after the next one I guarantee your entire ship’s gonna go down in flames.”

He didn’t doubt it, nodding appropriately. “I want you to get the next one. We’ll figure out how to get you in Federation space because it needs to be you. Doesn’t matter what it’ll take.” Before she could make more threats he added, “You’d get it no matter what. I’m right, ye?”

Her answer of course was hell no. Had Reeser not told Coram previously about her idea to leave without it? What had they talked about the past couple of days? But…she knew he still had it on his person, wasn’t surprised when he laid out the first artifact on the desk next to her cuff. It caught her attention and wouldn’t let go, her gaze drinking in its simple design. There was something about it, something she didn’t quite understand. She…wanted it in her hands, could envision it resting together with a couple more pillars just like it.

“Go on,” he prodded, aware of her sudden obsession. “Touch it.”

That sounded wrong. Grunting, Paz looked away. She’d already moved closer, already sat down without realizing it. She didn’t like how easily swayed she was. “It’s not…it’s not like, magic or anything, right?”

To be honest it was a stupid question but he didn’t laugh, gently shaking his head, eyes intent on her. “No. It’s real.”

“Then…” Licking dry lips Paz reached out, her fingers wavering over the stone. She couldn’t focus on anything else, not while it was in front of her. “What is it?”

“You feel it?” he questioned in a whisper, somehow incredibly patient now. She nodded, not even sure what he meant. She just…knew.

She pulled back, forcing herself to think about anything else. His lidded blue eyes didn’t help but it was something at least. He’d asked her to touch it; she couldn’t now, not when he was asking for it.

“What is it?” she asked again, irritated when he offered a faint smile.

“Wouldn’t dare try explaining it to you.”

She looked away, back to the stone. “Why did Fiala have it?”

“You said you didn’t care about them,” he teased, leaning back, enjoying her agitated state. “Don’t worry, I won’t bore you. But…if you want to hold onto this one for now, I won’t stop you. I have a feeling you’d keep it safe.”

That sucker was in her hands before he could finish his sentence. Paz stared at it, thumb smoothing over the flaked surface. Her burns felt better, a relief she hadn’t known she needed washing over her. She felt it, badly. Glancing up she offered Coram a crude sneer.

“I’ll still gut you.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” he countered, appearing very comfortable in his chair. When he promised talking business he apparently meant it because he was suddenly very honest with her. “I like your style. Like it more if it didn’t nearly kill my crew but I….still do. You’re the most Hylerian person I’ve ever met. That being said…” He grew more stern. “Don’t put my crew in danger ever again or I’ll gut you first.”

She snorted, slumping in her seat. She’d been so pissed before but now she could hardly recall why. “You’d fail.”

“Stab you in the heart, dead of night,” he started, eyes boring into her. He was serious. She smiled lazily, just as serious. There were too many ways to kill someone. She listed off some of her favorites, ones she knew already worked.

“Poison your drinking water,” she sighed, already imagining it. “Steal a gun from one of your mates and blast your head off during work hours when there’s an audience. Break your neck while you’re walking down the hall, gouge your eyes out with kitchen shears and carve to the spine. Or…gut you belly up like a fish. Don’t worry, I’ve got some better ones I’ve wanted to try.”

They studied one another, Coram breaking eye contact first, shifting in his seat. He grew thoughtful. “How many people have you killed for Val?”

Of course he’d bring the conversation back to her captain. Paz declined to give a straight answer.

“Enough to know how to do it without a fuss. Don’t test me, Coram. Take away everything you want, it still leaves me as I am.”

“And what is that?” he wondered, falling right into her trap. Paz’s smile dissipated while she leaned forward, pointing the stone at him.

“A dumb little slave who can’t possibly tell when they’re being manipulated.” The stick was gently set back on his desk. “Now would you like to bitch at me some more or what?”

“You did a lot for her,” he continued, ignoring her. “Killed, hauled product, looted…did she make you do it or did you volunteer?”

She’d…both. Initially she’d volunteered, happy to be rid of the ship’s monotony, eager to prove to Val she could do anything. It didn’t bother her. When she’d gotten good at it Val started assigning the more intense trips to her. Why not? She thrived off them, and she loved when Val would tell her she’d done well. She could do things even the muscular Mandrelle couldn’t.

Thinking about her team made her heart wrench. In the haze of getting that stupid artifact she’d barely thought of them. Studying her cracked hands she felt that vulnerability returning, like he was trying to get her to break. She’d always been difficult, so none of this was Val’s fault. It was hers.

“I…wanted to do it,” she finally answered, covering for her crew. “Why?”

“You volunteered to kill,” he mused, thoughtful. “You begged for lotus. Sounds to me like you did whatever you could to be gone, physically and mentally.”

She did not care for his conclusion, automatically rejecting it. No, she’d wanted Val to be proud of her. She’d wanted…wanted to fit in better, didn’t want to be the wild monkey that ripped shit up for fun. She hadn’t wanted to be herself, because all she knew about herself was she was Hylerian and Hylerians had no control. She’d found ways to control herself. She’d wanted to be there; he had it backwards.

He was trying to distract her, trying to control her. She looked up. If he wanted to play that she could, too.

“You think you’re good at psychoanalyzing, don’t you?”

His chin lowered. “I don’t think I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong,” she confirmed, his smile unnerving.

“Doubtful.”

She crossed and uncrossed her legs, heart thudding uneasily. “How can you be sure?”

This he could answer. He stretched to one side. “It’s how we all act. Can’t stand the monotony, ye? Can’t stand being told what to do, don’t like cramped spaces, hate being treated like dirt no matter how polite you try to be, soliciting sex purely because you’re going insane without it… Don’t tell me you’re nothing like that, Paz. I’ve met you in public, watched you in action. Your trip to Hiduron? Shouldn’t have expected anything less.”

She flashed her teeth while stifling another snarl, genuinely wondering if the stone pillar would crumble if she attempted shoving it through one of his eyes. He was right, though for the wrong reasons. “You should work on your flirting. You’re right—I only fucked you cos I was desperate. Ten other people in that bar would’ve fucked better than you.”

“Gonna have to try harder than that to hurt my feelings,” he lightly answered, fighting to keep a neutral expression. “I only fucked you to get on your ship.”

“Ye?” Paz wondered, lips twitching. “That all?”

His blue eyes wavered, just barely. “Ye.”

“Good,” she brightly remarked, rising from her chair. “Then I don’t have to worry what you think of me.”

And then she almost flipped his desk but he pushed back, narrowly avoiding being rammed against the back wall. Tablets and other debris spilled from the surface all over the floor, the stick and her bracelet included. He was lucky enough to have grabbed onto it while she lifted, any enjoyment he was getting out of this gone. Stumbling back while he cursed she clutched her own middle, muscles protesting at the move.

“Don’t tell me what I’m like,” she nastily warned, leaning on the door frame. “I already told you, I know who I am.”

“You’re fucking psycho is what you are,” he spat, pushing his desk back to where it belonged. Everything was a mess, even his hair in disarray as he used one hand to curry through it. She was incredibly pleased with herself, loving the surprise smeared across his face even if it cost her. Readying herself she twisted, grabbing at the door.

“Least I’m not like you, floating entire ships and whatnot.”

Forcing it open she was again met with Desh but this time she was prepared. He reached for her and she ducked, punching low and knocking him back. He hit the floor with a thud, groaning in shock. She sidestepped his sprawled figure, haughtily throwing her hair over one shoulder while walking away.

What Coram had said didn’t bother her. It didn’t. She had herself under control, not him.

It didn’t bother her.


	17. Ch 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do not leave people like Paz alone they can and will start picking apart your property without even realizing it.

Okay, perhaps it bothered her a little. Carefully twisting around in her tight bed Paz wished she could go out and bug Reeser but he wasn’t allowed to speak with her. No one else would talk, or even acknowledge her, either. Thus, she’d spent most hours cooped up in her allotted room, picking at scabs and the walls and wishing for any kind of real entertainment.

It’d been like this for almost a week, and she literally hated Coram, his words circling through her head on a constant loop. If he’d meant for this to be a punishment he’d done a great job. At least her scarring was healing. Could be faster but she’d have to talk to Aim and Aim was still not happy with her.

See, this was why she didn’t like being herself. This was why she needed downers and competent people who could tell her what to do. When _she_ made decisions they were always wrong. Now she wished she’d held onto that stick. That way she’d have something to show for her behavior.

But no, instead she was in self-imposed exile on a ship that’d definitely stolen her, too irked to try cooperating. None of this made sense.

She could calm down, try and emulate regular people’s behavior. It wasn’t hard but goddamn could she not help herself when Coram’s smug face came to mind. That asshole thought he knew her, as if he could ever guess what she was like. And, she knew for a fact he’d enjoyed fucking her. He was such a dick for bringing that shit up and then expecting her to take it well.

No, no, it didn’t bother her at all.

What bothered her were all the other things. The being stuck here against her will, the forced treasure hunt, obtaining new organs she hadn’t asked for, no contact with her actual crew, no comm—everything was infuriating and she’d spiral down an angry path whenever she thought about it.

“Just be normal,” she muttered, tossing the other way and staring at a dim shelf of tablets nearby, things she was supposed to have read by now. Wandering the Lakai would at least cure her restlessness, but she was having a hard time convincing herself to leave her room. “All you gotta do is go out there, be normal. Ye, you can do that.”

Yeah, she could. People in the Federation thought she was alright. But her brain had to stall, angrily wondering why she cared anyway. Why not stay in here and keep picking at the wall panels that came off way too easily (she already had two defeated on the ground)? These people were murderers. _She_ was not—her job just happened to have that result when things went wrong. It wasn’t (usually) her intent to kill. And she was _not_ nuts.

Just bored.

“If you apologize he’ll eat that up,” she argued with herself, now on her back and staring at the sterile ceiling, pipes and more panels and a vent even she couldn’t fit into staring back. “He’d think he won. But it’s not like you should apologize. You just need to get him to let Reeser talk to you. That’d…that’d be worth it, I guess.”

Not really. Ugh, why weren’t they already on their way to wherever the next artifact was? What the hell was the holdup?

She sat up, bargaining with her stubborn feelings now. “Okay, just go out there and whatever happens, happens. If he shows up just say you’re sorry and it won’t happen again. Val fell for that shit, too. Say you were panicked or something. Whatever. He’ll buy it.”

But she knew she wouldn’t behave, not as long as she had to speak with someone who clearly found enjoyment in making her squirm. Her mouth made up its own rules around people like Coram and she hated it. It’d never work.

Sick of being cooped up anyway she climbed out of bed and straightened loose pajamas, moodily leaving her room in search of maybe food or…something, any kind of stimulation. She moved through the Lakai quietly as possible, aware it was off hours. Some halls had several staff members monitoring the ship while others were deserted. The kitchen was closed, unfortunately. She kept going, idly wandering down to the rec area. Someone was in the spot she’d previously commandeered for stargazing but she figured it wouldn’t be Coram—he was supposed to be high and mighty. Mingling didn’t seem like something he’d do.

Her stomach lurched as she entered the Lakai’s most quiet area, highly disappointed to find Desh’s imposing figure. He lounged on the same couch she’d languished on. Instead of stargazing however he was busy reading over a tablet. He blanched upon recognizing her, a pretty tame reaction to someone who’d punched him.

In an effort to save him embarrassment Paz held up a hand, already swiveling and leaving. She didn’t want to bug him, or be around him in general. Yet several steps down the hall she turned again, taking a deep breath. Each pace back was agonizing.

“I’m sorry I hit you,” she announced, timidly hanging in the doorframe, gaze on the floor. “That was—wrong and you had nothing to do with it.”

“Don’t talk to me,” he requested without looking up. Cheeks burning, Paz stood still a moment, his low voice sinking in. One hand clutched at the frame.

“Fine. Not speaking to you but I figured I should say something. I’m not—not a total…” Fingers snapping at her side she wasn’t sure what she was trying to convey. He wasn’t replying so obviously he had no interest, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling she needed to keep going. “Wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t feel so cornered. So, maybe a word of advice: don’t trap people you’re trying to interrogate.”

He snarled, reading on. “Don’t talk to me.”

“Fine, fine.” Giving up Paz lingered just a bit longer before slipping away. She’d tried, so that was something. It’d probably gone better than if she’d tried that with Coram. If the captain tried to tell her not to speak she’d likely cause a scene.

Now what was she going to do? She didn’t really know too many other parts of the ship. The lower levels contained the engines and some mechanical business, and the top deck was where Reeser was but she had a feeling she wasn’t welcome there. She guessed she could go take a shower. She hadn’t done that in a couple days.

“Are you that bored?” Desh wondered, to which she called back with a sullen ‘yes’, moping in the hall. There was a sigh and then he added, “Let’s put you to work then.”

Which was how she learned the Lakai had a gym. Desh barely said a word to her but he led her to it’s weight room, indicating she pick up some equipment and get started. This hadn’t been what Paz thought it’d be but she was willing to do anything so long as it kept her busy.

Always trying to impress she picked up the biggest barbell she could find, angry with herself for dropping it before she’d even curled it to her chest. Her hands wouldn’t hold properly, not while they were still on the mend. Desh silently handed her a more appropriate set, waiting until she performed a few reps before moseying to his own corner with several machines

“Your hit’s weak,” he commented, casually sitting at a bench and reaching up for a bar. “If you’re gonna fight you’ll need to put in some work.”

Too distracted to see what he was doing Paz focused on the weights, muscles thrumming pleasantly. It’d been ages since she’d done anything like this, and she found she enjoyed it. At first she thought it would be boring but somehow it was just enough stimulation to keep her occupied.

She didn’t stop until the gym filled with new Hylerians just waking up for their next shift.


	18. Ch 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At least the captain doesn't seem to be holding a grudge.

She got good at lifting. At first she didn’t want to admit she liked working out but Paz really did. It kept her mind busy and worked her body hard. With nothing better to do she was in the weight room basically anytime she wasn’t sleeping. It wore her out, the stupid loop of worrying thoughts finally dissipating.

No one would interact with her still, which was a bummer, but by then she didn’t care. This was something productive, useful, and it gave her some killer definition. Val would be so proud when she returned.

She hoped she’d return soon. She missed her crew, Sam’s worried face coming to mind often. Whenever it did she’d lift heavier weights, determined not to think about him too much.

It’d been at least a week since she’d first lifted and no one had given her any information or an idea on how long it’d take to get to the next artifact. Given it was a pretty large crew she knew there were other things going on, certain people going missing for a few days and reappearing later meant something, but it’d be nice to know just a little bit. Then again she had nearly pushed a table onto the Lakai’s captain so maybe they figured she didn’t want to talk.

She didn’t, of course, but still.

At least there was Desh. He wouldn’t talk to her, oh no, but he was in the gym quite a bit. She had to assume he was monitoring her, likely ensuring she wasn’t inciting a riot or anything. They truly needn’t worry—she wasn’t interested in stuck-up Hylerians that didn’t even look Hylerian.

Yes, she was somewhat bitter over so many on board being ‘proud’ Hylerians and then covering up with mods. She understood why yet it still seemed dumb. They were amongst themselves. Why bother hiding? With mods they all just looked like really tall, yet normal, people. Paz was pretty short for a Hylerian: she stood just a couple centimeters below the few normal people on board. She was beginning to think being Hylerian really was purely cosmetic though because she was sure she had more in common with the regulars than any of Coram’s kind.

Ugh, Coram. At least when she lifted she didn’t think much about him. Did she feel bad for nearly squashing him? No. But it had been a terrible idea. What would she have done afterwards? See? This was why she needed to be kept in check.

From anyone other than him or his crew, thanks.

Returning to the gym after a brief stint in the showers, Paz went back to work. It must’ve been off hours. Not too many people were around—in the halls, the showers or the gym. Currently only one other Hylerian ran on a treadmill, far from her, which was fine. She didn’t recognize him anyway, meaning he probably also knew to steer clear.

Her arms burned this go around. She was proud she could lift much heavier weights now. Back in the showers she’d been admiring herself in a mirror, hardly recognizing herself anymore. Sure, she still looked like the weird Hylerian from Val’s crew but she appeared more toned. She liked that. It helped take the focus off several pinkish scars still crossing her belly. That was honestly the worst part, and it was vain of her to care, she already knew that, but she hated how they marred her skin. She’d never asked to be saved, never asked for these scars. Her hair wasn’t nearly long enough to mask them, so she supposed she’d have to cover up until she felt more comfortable with them.

That didn’t really stop her from throwing off the shirt concealing her bralette when she grew just as sweaty as before she’d gone to shower, starting with the easier weights and working up to the heaviest. If Mandrelle was around he’d be impressed. No one else was, but he would. He’d think she was some type of beast.

She wished she’d trained with him back on the Osiris. Perhaps it would’ve helped but no, she’d wanted to spend all her time blazed and lying across Sam’s chest. She missed them so much, Sam especially. He’d been so understanding. Tolerated her best he could, tried to figure out what would help her. More than that he’d been kind, found her useful before anyone else did. She liked to think Val wouldn’t actually hurt him on her behalf, but the fear was always there.

Lowering her latest set back to it’s rack she padded about the weight room, thoughts doubtful. She took a drink of water, wiping sweat from her brow and wondering what they thought of her. Coram had said something about Val covering for her. Did that mean…they thought that would help? Or did Val know who she was messing with and had chosen to take cautionary measures? The Nav would surely be all over her disappearance if they knew who had her.

But…why wouldn’t Val have told them? She had to lean against a machine, that thought inconsistent with the rest. Unless Coram’s crew was so clever they’d managed to hide from the utmost authority. That couldn’t be the case though. The Royal Nav put even the most hardened criminals to shame. With a few exceptions, Coram’s crew included, they could track near anything across all types of space.

“Looks like you’ve been spending your time wisely.”

Ugh, why did she hear the captain’s voice? Glancing up Paz only found the Hylerian who’d been running, his tall frame sitting down on one of the weight benches. His attention barely flickered to her, grinning before he propped one leg up, stretching to reach his toes.

She rolled her eyes. If this was what Reeser meant about them changing mods for ‘security’ reasons then she would likely have a problem with it. Coram’s features had completely changed, unrecognizable save for the same build. He’d gone with jet black hair this time, skin a smooth yet milky color, even his cheekbones higher than before.He’d forgone the bright blue eyes for a more neutral brown, everything combined turning him into a completely normal looking person who’d apparently never traveled in his life.

No wonder she hadn’t seen Desh all day. He’d probably changed mods, too. Great.

Honestly she thought his previous mods looked better but saying so probably wasn’t the best thing to open with. Instead she took a deep breath and dredged up the apology she’d been working on for weeks.

“It helps with my mood.” Okay, so it wasn’t really an apology but it was better than nothing. “I’m working on it.”

“I’ve heard,” the captain loftily commented. He swiveled, stretching the other leg. When she watched she couldn’t help noticing mods didn’t do much besides change what was immediately noticeable. His bone structure, face aside, was literally the same, just hidden beneath different looking skin.

“Like my new look?” he asked, noticing her stare. Ignoring his obnoxious grin Paz pulled her hair up and off her sweaty neck, tucking it into a bun. She wasn’t going to get sucked into casual conversation, not with him. It’d help her situation, but her ego couldn’t handle it.

“I think I’ve healed enough,” she informed him. “I’ve been, you know, lifting as well. I’m ready when you are. You wouldn’t…happen to know when that’d be, do you?”

“Ye, I liked the old one, too,” he lamented, spine twisting. “This one’s too pasty but—it’ll have to do. And yes, I do.”

When he didn’t elaborate she watched him perform more stretches, sure he was taunting her. Why was his back so muscular? What’d he do to get that build? “Okay. So…when are we doing this?”

“Couple days,” he replied, on that solid back, arms past his head. Paz noted even the little sliver of skin peeking beneath his raised shirt was pale. Val’s mods were always so outlandish. She supposed they could be normal, if that was what someone wanted. Her gaze stayed on that sliver of skin. “Same routine as before. We’ll have a briefing, then you’ll be off. Wouldn’t want to bore you with any background information.”

Her cheeks flushed. He thought she was an idiot. That was fine and all but she would appreciate _some_ information now that she’d actually begun his quest. She took several timid steps forward, gaze studying the ground.

“Look, I know you think I’m some dumb-ass but I’m trying to be polite here. Can I at least know where we’re headed?”

“Yeah,” he answered in a huff as he scrunched upright. “In our next briefing. Until then keep lifting.”

He rose from the bench, heading for the hall entrance. Grinding her jaw Paz couldn’t help watching his swaggering hips, wishing she could lash out. That would be a bad move though and she’d told herself this enough times to know she really ought to keep calm. Or, as she’d repeated a million times, be normal.

“I’m sorry,” she hollered after him, fists on both hips. “I wasn’t thinking, alright? I won’t—it won’t happen again.”

“Not counting on it,” he brightly sang back, disappearing before she could offer anymore awkward words. “Looking good, by the way.”

Her cheeks were surely crimson by now. Muttering under her breath Paz turned and surveyed the rest of the gym. It’d only been them, and now she was alone. Good.

At least no one had seen her weak schmoozing.


	19. Ch 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coram, Paz, and (ugh) Desh sit down for a briefing on the next mission, because of course there's a second mission.

There were three more days between her and any kind of meeting or briefing, or whatever it was Coram called it. Paz didn’t know, didn’t care—she was just bored for three days straight and attempting to keep herself busy with anything she could find. Given Reeser still couldn’t fraternize with her and Aim didn’t want to even acknowledge her, that left…working out. Even that she couldn’t stand after the first day, and with good reason.

Literally no one looked the same anymore. Well, Aim looked the same and some of the crew who never left the ship, but that was it. Everyone else? She’d probably frequented the gym with all the new faces she saw but since no one spoke to her she had no idea who anyone was. It was incredibly irritating. So when she was finally summoned to a briefing she practically ran to that all-too-familiar meeting room. It took every ounce of effort to remember to be on her best behavior.

She swallowed her bad attitude as she rushed down the halls, not surprised at all to see Desh already standing guard at the door. With his arms crossed she supposed he should look intimidating but she’d been working out. She’d gladly take him in a fight, and while she might not win she’d definitely make him think twice about touching her. If someone had ever bothered training her to properly fight she’d already outmatch him but, well, this was his ship. She’d let him have the upper hand.

For now.

He didn’t seem pleased to see her but she’d received the summons from one of his cronies so she knew he’d been expecting her. Flashing a brilliant smile she waved as she halted before him, dying for any kind of interaction at all.

“Nice to see you,” she chirped at him since he wasn’t going to say anything, eyeing his new face with feigned interest. “I’m sure you missed me, too.”

He didn’t even roll his eyes. Stepping aside, Desh opened the door and beckoned her in. Paz reminded herself about _manners_ once more and stepped into Coram’s cramped office, taking up her usual seat on the right in front of his desk. The captain was already sprawled in his seat on the other side, those less striking brown eyes studying some unrolled documents spread across the desk.

As Desh shut the door he briefly glanced at her before returning to the papers. One leg then rose and he planted a boot along the edge, just in case she felt like shoving it at him again. Paz kept her jaw locked, simmering under the surface. Of course this motherfucker thought she couldn’t control herself. She’d show him. Well, until he let Reeser talk to her again.

Hands in her lap she pretended she didn’t notice, taking in his new face once more. She liked the previous one better, but this one was less conspicuous. And, she hated to admit, still nice to look at.

“If cops are looking at biometrics then why do you guys change your mods?” she baldly inquired, mildly curious. Even with Desh she’d only known it was him due to those bulging arms. “Like, just for stealth or what?”

For a moment the room was quiet and she thought he might not answer, but then Coram sniffed and said, “For stealth, sure, but it keeps everyone on their toes. The Nav focuses on biometrics but if I’ve got a team holding up random ships then chances are they’re too scared to spend time doing that. This way it guarantees you’ll never see the same face twice, and when the Nav _does_ put out notices on us nobody’s looking out for the faces they do advertise.”

He could’ve just said to fuck with the Nav and it would’ve meant the same thing to her. Paz nodded along as politely as she could anyway. Seeing she’d leashed herself the captain smirked, attention drifting as he leaned back.

“No comments today?”

Oh, she shoved down the remarks she’d been about to make and crossed her ankles. “Nope. Whenever you’re ready to go, so am I.” Okay, okay, she couldn’t help grinning as she flexed a bicep and added, “I’m itching to try out these new babies.”

That went ignored because of course they didn’t care. Looking to Desh first, Coram then settled his focus on her. “In two days time we’re going to head out to the next specified location. I’ve tracked this artifact down for a while and am ninety-five percent certain it’s there. If not, it’s a day out to the only other location I’ve speculated. That may take some time, in which case I’ll extend your contract with us—you know, until you pick up the third item.”

_You motherfucking dick you’d better return me to Val the second we pull this shit off_. Keeping that to herself Paz waited for him to finish. She wasn’t going to lose it. She was going to be cool, calm, and collected. Totally not someone people like Reeser couldn’t hang around. Coram’s smirk grew. He clearly enjoyed seeing her attempts to stay in control.

He let his boot drop, scooting forward once more and running a hand through midnight hair. “Regardless, we’re close to the last artifact not on Hyleris. It shouldn’t be like what you went through previously—this one’s been buried with time so no one should be around. The only thing you should worry about are the flora and fauna, but I know that’s nothing you can’t handle.”

He kept saying ‘should’. She had a feeling there would be people, not just…whatever else he’d said.

“Okay,” she sweetly replied, fine with the plan so far, mostly since he hadn’t detailed much of anything. Details were mind-numbing. “So, we go in, dig this thing out, then haul ass back here? What’s this one look like?”

Coram’s comm flickered to life, an illuminated blueprint covering the desk. Paz tilted her jaw, drinking in the shoddy image of another…ugh, another stick. Goddamnit, he was such an idiot, risking her life, _all_ their lives, for some stupid rock. This one wasn’t even pretty. It looked much like the first in that it’d been carved into a rod with divots all over, much like a system drive, but it was just black stone. Nothing interesting about it. And…man, if it was buried they’d probably have some trouble even identifying it.

“Do you mean it’s… _buried_ , buried?” she wondered with a wince, already trying to imagine it. “Or like in some old abandoned museum?”

She could feel Desh’s eyes on her, just like Coram’s. The two shared a look over her head while she kept studying the image, and then Coram coughed slightly.

“Ah, both. You familiar with Centurion Alpha?”

She knew of Beta, and she knew enough to understand Beta replaced Alpha. Why though, she had no clue. Beta was home to the Royal Nav. Wait—

Frowning, she glanced up at his keen, neutral face. “Wasn’t the Nav established there?” He gave a curt nod, keeping quiet, as if encouraging her thought process. Paz took the bait. “But it’s not…it’s in Beta now, ye? And you said the Federation holds these sticks—by the way you lied about the first one—but if it’s buried…did the Nav forget about it?”

And if they’d forgotten, _why_ was this important again?

A satisfied smile crept across Coram’s lips. It was almost nice to look at. The image disappeared on the desk, replaced with another of a massive building. “I just said they were in Fed _space_. And I wasn’t going to bore you with the details, but ye. Nav headquarters were established in Alpha, then abandoned soon after due to Alpha’s volatility. Their ancestors didn’t realize it wasn’t very hospitable, apparently. Long story short they up and ditched post and now it’s been exposed to the elements for a couple centuries. Far as we know Alpha has frequent tectonic activity so…their former headquarters is likely half-buried. No one knows since Alpha’s off limits—not officially anyway. I’ve seen enough loot on the black market from there to know it’s possible to get in.”

“What if someone already stole it?” Paz quietly asked, memorizing the building best she could. This time it wouldn’t be like Fiala’s palace where she already knew the layout. Beyond that, this place looked huge. And ancient. If it’d been buried or collapsed…mm, this wouldn’t be that easy.

And…something about the timeline he’d just given her seemed…strange. She wasn’t sure what.

“Why would anyone want a stupid stick?” Coram mockingly retorted, using her words against her. Paz held her tongue while he huffed a soft laugh. “We’ve considered it, but it’s unlikely. If it is…that’s where our secondary location might come in: Centurion Beta. If it was stolen, chances are it’s already fallen back into Nav hands so that’d be our next spot to rip apart.”

Paz didn’t care if they saw the longing on her face as her eyes widened. Beta? She wanted to go there _so bad_. Not for missions, mind you, but for leisure. If the stick was there she had to imagine she’d have to at least go _into_ the colony. Then she’d finally be able to see it instead of being stuck on the Osiris. They had beaches there, she knew they did, and theaters and entertainment and come on, why not check there first? The Nav was smart. They probably did have the stick.

“And you’d…get me into Beta,” she slowly confirmed, careful not to shout. “You’d…trust me in there?”

The captain’s smirk dissipated momentarily, presumably trying to read her. “Wouldn’t say I’d _trust_ you in there, but I’d trust you want to go home to your master and therefore will get me what I want.”

Paz’s fists itched to reach across the desk and grab him by the throat but she kept still, taking a very deep breath. She tried focusing on Beta. Beaches, concerts, casinos…all the things she’d only seen in vids. “So if it’s not on Alpha, I’d get to go to Beta? For how long?”

“Long enough to get it,” he leveled, frowning when his teasing didn’t hit the mark. “You’ve been there, ye?”

She turned her attention to the flickering building. Sort of. Never set foot off the docks.

“Um. Ye.”

“Val never let you in, did she?” he pressed, frown turning into something entirely different. Livid, almost. “Was it like that everywhere? She scared you wouldn’t come back?”

He was testing her today. Paz swallowed the venom she’d been about to spit and thought over her words carefully. He was such a dick for trying to sway her. She stared right back, any hope for Beta dying.

“Nah, _we_ didn’t want people like _you_ sniffing around.”

Lie. That was a lie, but it was partially true, maybe. Val always bitched about people wanting her for some reason or another, hence never stopping in one place for too long and the only places she was allowed to visit being fuel depots or places she’d been specifically vetted to travel to. Coram’s slight sneer indicated something though she didn’t know or care what. It didn’t matter to her if he believed it—he shouldn’t have been trying to get in her head anyway. She’d already told him it wasn’t going to work.

Desh’s presence was suddenly so much closer as he sat down next to Paz, eyeing her with contempt and a hint of…disgust? Tch, the feeling was mutual. “Drool over your master later. Yes, we’ll be in Beta if it comes down to that.”

_We_? Paz’s mouth popped open in outrage. At least nothing came out, though she did slump in her chair, legs unfolding in that uncivilized manner she knew Val disliked. It figured she’d be going with someone who couldn’t be swayed by her fits.

Across the table Coram had smoothed out his own features, that infernal smirk returning. “Sorry, Topaz. This definitely won’t be some kind of vacation.”

Fine. Whatever. She eyeballed the building again. “Alright. Well, it sounds pretty straightforward. Is he piloting or me?”

Now the captain’s face flushed with delight. “I will.”

You know, for a second there she thought she’d managed all this info and bullshit quite well. This, however…visions of being trapped in a little rig with both of them came to mind, of constant snarling and posturing and she wasn’t sure she could do it without attempting to murder at least one of them. Probably whoever was cockiest at any moment—yeah, probably Coram.

“I thought you can’t be in Fed space,” she growled, shooting daggers at the one she’d probably murder. He simply nodded like that was obvious.

“Not for long, sure. But this? I’m not sending you off with my second and expecting you both to come back best friends. Sorry if that ruins any fantasies you had of wrecking my carefully thought out plans.”

“If you’re going then _why_ am I going?” she pressed ahead, scowling now, blood boiling in her veins. It was impossible to keep her mouth shut. He was trying to make her snap and she was falling for it. “You can track just as good as me. Better, probably.”

He shrugged. “You’re also small enough to fit into some tight spots—you know, like how you so nicely demonstrated for us previously. That’s why.”

Which meant he highly anticipated this building being buried. Exhaling, Paz managed the slightest of nods. Even though she wanted to throw a chair at him she kept her anger to her now bouncing knees. When she answered each word was ground out. “Fine. So be ready in two days?” He confirmed that. “Great. I’ll get your stick then. Oh, but I do have a request.”

Coram cocked his head, as if he were waiting for something vulgar. “This should be good. What?”

Very slowly, very deliberately, Paz rose to her feet. She assumed they were done for now—they’dsummon her when she was needed.

“If things go wrong,” she murmured to them both, “then I will not be held accountable for my actions. You’ll get the stick but you might not like how it comes to you. Are you gonna be okay with that or should we do the lecture now?”

The dick actually grinned and snorted at such a statement, though he did find it in his soul to control himself. Turning that snort into a clearing of his throat he waved a hand, dismissing her. The building went away, he and Desh’s focus back on the desk’s scattered documents. Paz didn’t bother looking at those. What he did was none of her business and she wasn’t dumb enough to think they’d ever include her in anything they hadn’t brought her here for.

“Long as I get the artifact and my crew stays alive,” he told her as she turned her back, “you’ll be perfectly fine.”

“Fine enough to talk to Reeser?” she quipped, pausing at the door. He didn’t even look up.

“Nope. See you in a couple days.”

Oh, _how_ she wanted to murder him.


	20. Ch 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another layer to add to the mystery that is the Lakai before Paz is shipped off. What're they doing with volatile chemicals? What's Aim doing researching said chemicals? Paz has some questions.

Two more days. That was an awful lot of time for someone with the attention span of a cockroach. When she wasn’t lifting, Paz tried to use it wisely by getting back in Aim’s good graces.

Er, well, as close to those as someone like her could get. Aim had a deep-seated dislike for Paz at the moment, mostly because she’d essentially laughed in the doctor’s face by doing everything possible to be careless. Yes, Paz would be a little pissed in her shoes, too, but still. How was any of this _her_ fault?

She kept a steady presence in the med wing of the Lakai, complimenting the doctor like she might not see through it and when that failed took to offering to do odd jobs in the lab. Any job, actually, even cleaning. Aim clearly didn’t like her because she’d spent the majority of the first day scrubbing gross containers of chunky matter she didn’t care to identify and the next had been mostly about organizing files. Not even comm files, just…regular paper ones regarding maladies and treatments. Like the most boring shit ever.

At least she was within several meters of the doctor while she worked to and fro, bustling from lab to medical rooms and back all day. She wasn’t even throwing dirty looks at the Hylerian any longer, more like a withering stare. It was progress, at least. Given Paz had nearly killed her son that was fine.

She still wanted in the doctor’s good graces.

Thus, the night before they were to head out to Centurion Alpha Paz wasn’t preparing or getting any extra bench presses in, nothing like that. Nope, she was in the lab, finishing up more boring filing while Aim was looking at something in a microscope several tables away. Paz did her best to keep quiet but she was dying to talk. To someone, anyone. Aim would do, even if she might not want to.

“Do you dye your hair?” she started, voice harsh against the lab cabinets. She didn’t bother looking at Aim, not yet. “I mean, you and Reeser…and I know you don’t really leave the Lakai, but still. Does he dye his?”

There was a snort from across the room. “Tch, as if he’d have the patience. His father’s got the reddest of hair. That’s where he gets it from, not me.”

Father, not husband or partner. Paz tucked that tidbit away.

“Oh. Okay,” was all she said. “Just wondering.”

And she planned on stopping there but a sigh came from Aim and the doctor took her focus off the microscope. “You know, most people just straight up ask me what the deal is.”

Paz feigned ignorance, continuing her filing. “What’s the deal with what?”

“Don’t act stupid. I _told_ you I’m his mum.”

That was true. Pausing in her work Paz glanced over her shoulder. “Oh. Well, why _are_ you both here? He said they sought him out and they pay well. Why’re you working with a bunch of—”

“Don’t finish that sentence, thanks,” Aim warned, earning a wry chuckle from the Hylerian. “It’s been a while but I have my own opinions on what our _captain_ does. I’ve made my peace. Anyway, I’m here because Rhys is here.” That explained nothing and Paz was sure she looked confused because Aim added, “I was in the Nav, too. Sure my lovely son said nothing about that.”

That was interesting. Brilliant eyes sparkled at the doctor. “He didn’t. You were a doctor there, too?”

“Shop medic, then PA, then doctor. Worked all over Andromeda with lots of crews. Some great, some not so great, all kinds of ships. Rhys enlisted because I was in it, but…he and his team didn’t match well. He’s a good kid, and I realize as his mum I’m biased, but he is. The Nav wasn’t a good fit but it did hone his skills. Taught him more than anyone else could.”

Paz let that sink in, turning fully to Aim. She appreciated the history lesson of perhaps her only friend on board but that answered nothing about Aim. “And so you…came as a package deal?”

The doctor grinned, flipping a ponytail over her whitecoat’s shoulder. “They only knew of him through me. I was recruited first, dearie. They heard about him because I talked him up and knew he’d be a good fit. Why wouldn’t they want sympathetic people who’ve been trained by the Nav?”

_Why are you sympathetic_? Paz wanted to ask but didn’t, aware she wouldn’t get answers. Around here, floating cargo ships and the like was apparently considered mundane even to someone who supposedly cared about helping people. She didn’t understand that and probably never would, even if someone ever bothered explaining.

“The Nav does train people pretty well,” she commented instead, not really interested in talking about the Federation’s dogs. What else was there to say? Anyone Nav-trained was really, _really_ good at whatever you threw at them.

Her attention turned to Aim’s microscope and she slowly crossed the room, aware the doctor knew where she was at all times. There would be no trust from her, of course. “What’re you looking at?”

“Nothing you’d be interested in,” Aim replied, rolling back a bit in her chair once Paz was close enough.She motioned at the scope regardless, so Paz stooped over and squinted into the lenses.

She wasn’t sure what to expect but she hadn’t counted on eyeballing a billion teeny tiny crystals. Well, maybe ‘crystals’ wasn’t the right word. All she saw was an endless landscape of harsh, broken pieces of some kind of material. They were all stained a light purple. Confused, Paz stepped back and observed the actual plates Aim had been looking at. It was no more than a dark violet smear smaller than her pinky nail. A label she could thankfully read at the top of the plate listed it as ‘absom’. She’d never heard of that before.

For some reason, and Paz couldn’t quite place why, she didn’t understand what Aim was doing in a lab looking at crystals when there were probably other things she could be doing. She looked about the lab before straightening and turning to offer the doctor a puzzled look.

“What is it?”

“Something the captain wanted,” Aim dismissively replied, sighing as if it were nothing special. “I’m just checking its volatility before another team starts working on producing it.”

“Why?”

Aim snorted. “So we don’t all die? It’s some nasty—.” She stopped herself, cocking her head as she looked to Paz. “Since when are you interested in anything? You finished with the files yet?”

No, she wasn’t, so Paz sullenly trudged back to her side of the lab with a huff. “Just because I have a short attention span doesn’t mean I’m stupid.” She paused, thinking. “Well, not all the time. I was just curious.”

Curious, and a little alarmed. Absom. What the hell was absom? Was it like lotus? Or huasca? Was it even a drug? She had no idea, but if Aim said they might all die when they began producing it…

Since Aim said nothing more she resumed her boring filing, forgetting the system she was supposed to follow and instead letting her mind wander. Something about the substance made her uncomfortable. Like…it didn’t fit into the narrative she’d created of Coram and the Lakai so far. Let’s see, as far as she knew they were murderers, looters, and liked to ‘free’ enslaved people in the name of justice by murdering more people—she had yet to see them ‘freeing’ anyone, by the way. Yet he wanted these stupid artifacts that had nothing to do with anything, and now there was something onboard his ship that seemed very…suspicious. Paz couldn’t place why, but _volatile…nasty…so they wouldn’t all die_? All of that sounded pretty strange to her.

Did the Lakai manufacture weapons? Was that how they were getting credits if it wasn’t coming from raids on other ships? She hadn’t seen any kind of place large enough in the Lakai to think they could actually do that, but…chemical weapons, they could make right here. Was absom a chemical weapon? She needed to do some research, she supposed, because Aim obviously wasn’t going to tell her, and if she pressed she’d just stay on the doctor’s bad side.

Falling quiet (comfortably, for once), Paz kept on with her filing while Aim continued with her studies. The Hylerian took her time, even fucking up some of the filing to slow down. She tried not to be obvious but she was waiting. Waiting for Aim to be done. She wanted to see where the doctor put the sample she was studying. It took almost an hour but eventually the doctor finished, stretching as she left her seat and took the plate with her.

Paz cursed to herself when Aim tossed it in a trash receptacle. That wasn’t helpful, and her fiddling around with files was now a waste of time. Fantastic. Yet as the doctor bid her goodnight and wished her well on her mission tomorrow, she realized maybe not all was lost.

Paz thanked the doctor and continued switching files around, spending a few minutes after Aim left aimlessly letting her eyes wander about the lab. Her senses were in tip top shape thanks to Coram’s no-fun policy so she knew what she wanted, knew exactly what she was looking for. Absom. The little tiny crystals. Were there any in the lab beyond the trash? Cabinets went unseen, Hylerian senses sniffing around until she could envision a little box marked ‘samples’ somewhere nearby. The box radiated the same feeling she’d gotten from the absom sample.

She waited until she heard nothing out in the med wing’s main hall, then slowly worked her way over to the lab’s furthest corner. Cabinets lined the wall from top to bottom, and since she was on the shorter side she crouched on her haunches and started at the bottom. The box was close. She could feel it. Like before at Fiala’s, she went into a lethal calm that had her carefully plucking open cabinet doors and ducking as she scanned each shelf. All sorts of packages and bottles lay before her, but none were the one she wanted. She dismissed the lowest cabinet, back on her feet to search the middle shelves. Nothing.

Okay, it’d be the highest cabinet, then. Glancing over a shoulder Paz ensured no one was around, then climbed up onto the counter between cabinets. She could’ve reached the top level without jumping up but she felt like it, as if she might need to shield whatever she found.

The top cabinet wasn’t locked. It clicked open with ease and she peered in, heart thudding in her chest. Just…something about this substance seemed off. It didn’t fit with everything else she knew.

And when her eyes met that ‘samples’ box she knew why. Thank the stars the warnings covering the box were all in the common tongue: _Hazardous, Volatile, Do Not Ingest, Do Not Inhale, Requires Protective Gear_. Tch, and Aim had thought dismissing this kind of shit would deter Paz. Pursing her lips, Paz quickly grabbed the box and brought it to the counter with her. The lid was flipped open, revealing a dozen small test tubes containing more of the purple, crystalline substance. The tubes, she noted as she extracted one, were tamper-proof. They wouldn’t break just from falling or being handled wrong, leading her to believe…

The Lakai was just as awful as she’d known. Coram and Desh could pretend they were vigilantes. Aim and Reeser could give her convoluted opinions all day. It didn’t change the fact that the Lakai housed a murderous, scheming bunch of Hylerians and she absolutely wanted no part in it, not if this absom junk could…kill people, just by inhaling it.

Fuck.

She needed to run back to Val as soon as possible. There was no way in hell she wanted to be around when they began mass producing this shit.

She took two of the vials regardless, pocketing them before shutting the box and placing it back in the same exact spot she’d grabbed it from. What she was going to do with them she had no idea, but tomorrow she’d be going somewhere with two Hylerians whom she didn’t particularly like. Hopping off the counter she quickly headed for the lab’s exit, pretending she’d done absolutely nothing odd. The absom samples were warm against her pant leg, as if they’d been agitated. She tried not to think about it.

But, she smugly told herself once she cleared the med wing and crossed through the Lakai’s main corridors, should either of those two Hylerians do anything she didn’t like, she had two doses of potential death just waiting for them. If Aim discovered any absom was missing, she’d be long gone anyway.

Good little slave she might be, but she wasn’t going to roll over just because someone thought they had some control over her. There wouldn’t _be_ another time where she had to swallow whatever Coram thought he could get out of her.


	21. Ch 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the thick of the plot begins >:) Time for Paz to demonstrate how committed she can be for a mission.

-Centurion Alpha, Orion Quadrant, M18-

Centurion Alpha wasn’t as big as Paz thought it’d be. Situated on a small moon that orbited a huge planet she promptly forgot the name to as soon as Coram told her what it was, its colony was just as small. Clearly their ancestors hadn’t been thinking very broadly when they’d taken up residence here.

Well, the rest of humanity’s ancestors if anyone was nitpicking, not theirs, but Paz considered the Federation her home and therefore her own. Just because Coram and Desh talked about the Federation like a bunch of evil douchebags didn’t mean it changed her mind. While it could be disproportionately irritating to deal with, the Federation wasn’t evil.

And if they really wanted to change her mind they would’ve spoken the common tongue, but in the time she’d been stuck inside a rig with them she’d barely heard a word she could understand. They both spoke Hylerian and only spoke common to her when they needed to inform her of something. Times like this made her wish she had her comm.

Thus, she’d taken to holing up in the back of the rig near the engine room, bored and wishing she was anywhere else, longingly staring out the few portholes available. When the captain finally maneuvered the ship around and she caught sight of the moon, she had to admit she…really wasn’t that impressed.

What _was_ impressive were the amount of ships, from cargo carriers to dreadnoughts, all surrounding the tiny moon. Alpha was supposedly abandoned but apparently not the space around it.

Good thing they weren’t in a rig with the Lakai’s tags. Oh no, the ship she’d stolen from Fiala’s estate had been retrofitted into a regular, Federation approved cruiser that fit perfectly in these parts. Along with travel time, that was why it’d taken so long for them to head here in the first place. Paz would never admit it but Coram had thought this through very well.

Not like she wanted to talk to, or even acknowledge him in the first place. Or Desh, to be honest. Both had switched their mods _yet again_ just before leaving the Lakai, and she had no idea what either of them looked like because they’d kept their helmets on for the majority of the trip. Apparently, she was not allowed to know who she traveled with. Cool. That definitely wasn’t irritating.

But not damning enough to try and poison them, either. No, by the time she saw Centurion Alpha with her own eyes she was pretty curious. Whatever the Nav guarded Alpha for (and they were all sure it was the Nav), it had to be something good. She wanted to see this through, at least.

Unfortunately she had a sinking feeling they weren’t going to simply sneak past the Nav, not when the captain had gone through so much trouble to disguise their ship. And if the Federation was now looking for her… Mm, there was probably a secondary reason behind the mod changes beyond just being irritating. Why hadn’t they modded her? Had they? She hadn’t checked a mirror lately. No, she would’ve felt it and besides, then they would’ve had to give her access to her comm and that still hadn’t happened.

If they’d let her at least listen to her own music she might’ve been more cooperative thus far.

She got her answer to how their arrival would go down once they received a transmission from a nearby cruiser, one which demanded credentials and their business in the area—and, of course, a mandatory sweep on board. Personally, Paz was offended (that wasn’t even legal—the Nav couldn’t just demand access to their ship given this wasn’t an occupied colony) but she meandered behind the other two in the cockpit while they accepted the terms. Coram stalled their ship, letting them float while politely waiting for the aforementioned cruiser to come to them. In the meantime Desh rose from his copilot’s chair (the one she’d practically died in, she grimly noted) and beckoned she follow him to the back once more. Paz went, if only because she didn’t know what else to do with herself at this time. She hadn’t even put her suit on yet.

“They’re going to know who I am,” she pointed out, trudging behind him to the engine room. The other Hylerian merely reached for a corner in the ceiling (and because he was tall enough it was easy). “I mean, if you would’ve warned me I could’ve come up with some story by now. What, am I supposed to hide somewhere while they inspect?”

With the helmet she couldn’t tell if he was amused by that. “Ye.”

And then he popped out a corner panel in the ceiling, revealing a dark space just big enough for a regular sized human to fit. Eyeballing it a moment with disdain, Paz chewed her lower lip.

“Um…hard no. I’m not hanging out in a cubby.”

“You’ll fit,” he reasoned, undeterred. Setting the panel aside he reached out a palm, presumably to boost her up. She stayed where she was, arms crossed and searching for something to say that’d keep her out of there. All she came up was a low snarl.

“No.”

His helmet tilted, fingers waggling. She shook her head, forgetting about her curiosity over Alpha. It wasn’t worth being put in there. Coram and Desh could suck it if they thought she’d be happy to do this.

“ _No_. What if we’re caught? What if I can’t get out? No, thank you.”

“You climbed into our ventilation just fine,” Coram called from the cockpit, seemingly aware this’d be an issue. “Think of it like another go at that.”

Hiding wasn’t the same as trying to escape and they knew it. She stared up at the tiny space, a whole host of wires and pipes just beyond it. Huffing, she eventually stepped forward.

“Leave me in there and I’ll rip the ever-loving shit out of this ship,” she warned, bracing herself. One boot tucked into Desh’s gloved palm and suddenly she was in front of the cubby’s maw, sliding in face first with his help. As usual, he said nothing though he did wait until she’d maneuvered around with a few grunts before returning the panel to its original placing. It clicked shut, enveloping her in pitch black with only the company of purring engines somewhere nearby. Paz held her breath a good long moment, hoping to get used to it.

Goddamnit, this was such a stupid idea.

Minutes went by, maybe an hour. She wasn’t sure, but she was sweating way too soon, heat from the engines too close for comfort. Having had to contort herself to fit her limbs weren’t very happy either, aching from her curled up position. Maybe she was nervous about hiding from the Nav? Or maybe she just really didn’t like tight spaces. She couldn’t tell. Even with her sharper senses she couldn’t hear anything past the electric humming, couldn’t feel anyone boarding because the little cubby quivered all on its own.

“You’re fine,” she kept whispering to herself, over and over until it was meaningless. Random thoughts came to mind in place of boredom, guilt beginning to consume her. Here she was on some stolen ship with a couple terrorists or whatever, worrying Val senseless and probably causing hell on the Osiris for everyone else. Sam already disliked their captain so her absence definitely made relations worse. And, if Val had informed the Nav about her then things were dire. She’d never requested the Nav’s aid before; it’d been crew policy to keep _away_ from them.

Mandrelle and Sentia probably didn’t care if she was gone, but she knew if it affected Val then the captain would take it out on them, on everyone. If Lonyn hadn’t been pissed with her previously then she definitely was by now. Er, well, _had_ been, at least. It’d been some time since she’d graced Osiris’s halls, after all.

Yet their pilot had tried everything she could to keep Paz from being taken, as if she’d had a stake in her disappearance, too. With Sam, she expected it. Out of the others, however…they were likely under orders to keep her with the Osiris at all costs.

That wasn’t a nice thought, and it was one she’d been trying to avoid. As she shifted uncomfortably in the cupboard however, there wasn’t much else to think about. Paz didn’t _enjoy_ being the reason others faced Val’s wrath. She didn’t want that responsibility, didn’t want others attached to her in that way. Even with Reeser on Hiduron, she’d just wanted to be done so he’d be safe. Sure, she’d crave company of all sorts on her own, but that wasn’t anything she couldn’t find anonymously.

Maybe…maybe the fact she’d landed herself in trouble so easily with Coram and the Lakai was a sign. Maybe it was time to distance herself from the others, from Sam. When she returned she’d need to ask Val to keep her separated, or something. Just…whatever would keep others out of the trouble she apparently attracted.

Most importantly, she didn’t want Sam sucked into whatever happened once she returned. Val could be ruthless, and it wasn’t his fault she was so…volatile. Yes, that was the word. That’s what she was. _Volatile_. He didn’t need that.

One day he’d be gone, free from Val if she ever came through on her agreement to let him leave if he provided enough credits. When that day came she knew he had optimistic plans—find another ship to work on, or maybe even live in a colony for once, and save credits until he could hire someone to look into his records. Yes, he’d been bought by Val but someone somewhere had to have records of who’d given him up or where he’d at least come from. Paz personally thought he was too obsessed about his family but she’d supported the dream, especially when he talked about it like she’d be at his side. _Of course_ she’d go with, she’d promised. Solving the mystery that was Sam would be a grand adventure. Like hell Val would ever let her go, but for years she’d imagined it, sworn she’d go if given the chance.

Okay, first things first when she returned to her crew: tell Sam the truth. About everything. That she probably wouldn’t be able to leave whenever he bought himself out, that she…loved him, but maybe not like he thought, and most importantly, that he needed to keep away from her before he was hurt again. She’d do her best to do the same. It’d sting, sure, but it was better than cleaving from him later on when they had that much more of a relationship between them.

Right?

Man, she really should’ve considered these things years ago. But she’d been so…

No, no. Coram was still wrong about her lotus consumption. Nobody had drugged her to keep her compliant. That’d been her decision, her way of leashing herself. He’d only said that to try and get in her head. Dickhead. Really. She should just try and kill him now. The universe would be a better place for it.

But if she did that she’d have to kill Desh, too, because he’d definitely be pissed, and she just…didn’t have the energy to deal with that.

Speaking of that particular issue, the panel was abruptly pried off and Paz found herself blinking until her eyes adjusted, a face she’d never seen before just below her. If it weren’t for those enormous arms she’d think they’d been compromised but no, it was just Desh, serious and stoic as always.

“And here I was thinking I’d have to rip my way out,” she grumbled, carefully reaching down to claw herself out. Her words weren’t as sharp as she wanted them to be, but maybe that was for the best. He waited long enough to catch her as she spilled out the cabinet, and then she was promptly set down on the metal flooring.

“We’re cleared for the region,” he informed her, as if that explained everything. “Once we hit ground you stay close and follow me. Get your suit on.”

As they passed another porthole in the main walkway Paz pulled a face. Alpha still looked pretty far away, though there were no ships in sight. They’d apparently cleared those. She had questions about how they’d gotten this far and what’d happened since she’d been locked up. Desh wasn’t going to answer such things, she was sure of it, so she didn’t ask.

Instead she complained because it was the most productive she’d likely be for a while. “Tch, already? Dude, we’re like an hour away. I’ll put it on in a bit.”

“Fine,” he relayed, not bothering to look back. Surprised, Paz trailed him to the cockpit once more. She thought he would’ve put up more of a fight. Since he didn’t…

“I thought no one was allowed down there,” she bitched, eyes taking in the ship’s dash and the ugly little moon beyond. Coram sat in the copilot’s seat to her left but she pretended he didn’t exist. She’d see his new face soon enough. “What, you guys bribe the Nav? Become buddies while I was gone?”

“Ye,” the captain tersely answered, voice tight. “Friendly enough to get us in through the dark side.”

Paz groaned, upper lip curling. “Seriously? This is gonna take forever, isn’t it? Is this really worth it?”

“Yes,” he ground out, long arms reaching forward to mess with several sectors on the dash. Unlike Reeser he didn’t seem as familiar with the controls. “Once you’re on the ground Desh will take you to headquarters. Stick with him—he’ll have protection, and food.”

She flashed an unkind smile at the other Hylerian. “Thanks for carrying shit.”

“Once you reach the ruins he’ll have your back,” Coram continued over her. “Your suit’s got an external comm going straight to him, to us. If anything goes wrong let us know, we’ll figure something out to extract you.”

_But not without the stick_ , Paz thought, finishing for him. She knew where she stood.

“What if he dies?” she baldly inquired. On the other side of her Desh stiffened. Coram made a rude noise.

“He won’t. Just follow him.”

“You’re just gonna wait for us? In here?”

“Ye.”

She sighed. That sounded boring as hell. “Seems like a waste of your time.”

He swiveled to face her. Paz caught a flash of blue but kept her focus elsewhere, mainly her toes while she rotated sore ankles. “I can work from here, thanks. Rather make sure you don’t drive my second to taking off his helmet out there. Plus, if you do something stupid someone’s got to be close to fix your fuck-up.”

“Tell me how you really feel,” she purred under her breath. More loudly she then added, “Fine. This should be all sorts of fun. I’ll get right on finding the stick.”

“Thought you fixed your attitude,” he retorted, tone indicating he’d run out of patience. Paz took pleasure in that, dropping back a few steps.

“Mm, you should’ve seen that coming soon as you put me in a cupboard. Do I get a bracelet or knife this time or what?”

“We’ll see,” Desh said for the captain, glancing over his shoulder at her. His current face was twisted in a wry smirk. “A collar would fit you better.”

She offered him a rude gesture before setting off to look for her suit and designated helmet, both of which would not go on until the very last minute. “Told you that you picked the wrong person for this.”

And they could’ve picked a better pilot. Coram might’ve been captain but he was not Reeser. Paz was sick almost immediately once he began a way too quick descent on the other side of Alpha. Desh wasn’t concerned so she tried to play it cool once she returned, arms full of her gear. She wanted to see if they might splatter into the moon but had to lock herself in the small washroom before anything exciting happened.

By the time she reemerged the cruiser was streaking through a very thin stratosphere. It was incredibly dark, though Coram was pushing across the slight sky in a bid to sneak onto the side facing its orbiting planet. It’d save them quite a bit of time if he could edge in as close as possible.

While the other two Hylerians murmured logistics she had her nose pressed to a porthole near the back of the cockpit, eyes trying to take in the blur of shadowed land beneath them. They were too high up to see much of anything, but it felt…strange being so close to something solid once again. It hadn’t been like that on Hiduron, not that she could recall anyway. Helmet locked at her hip, she wondered if the atmosphere was decent here. Even if Coram had alluded to it definitely not being breathable, she had to wonder. Their ancestors had built a colony here.

Maybe…maybe they’d thought they could farm it to become a habitable place? A few colonies, Puhlov and Deos at the very least, were like that: born out of contained colonies, and through hundreds of years of scrubbing their respective planets’ atmospheres and farming for oxygen, they’d created their own, living, breathing world. Granted they were both very small planets, smaller than this moon, but still. Even Centurion Beta had a sort of artificial atmosphere, though theirs she hadn’t really paid attention to, not when Beta’s insides sounded so much more interesting.

Maybe Alpha had been a precursor, to everything.

Man, why’d she even care? It wasn’t like it mattered to her. She kept staring out that porthole until Coram made a shoddy landing somewhere just over the crest of the lightened side of the moon. Soon as the rig skidded to a full stop she was at the hatch, antsy and pawing at the ground.

Desh and the captain were taking their time, talking to one another in Hylerian as they so enjoyed doing, and the only reason she knew whatever they spoke of was a point of tension between the two was because Desh was raising his voice. He kept trying to lower it but whatever Coram threw back wasn’t making it easy.

She, personally, enjoyed that, but there were more pressing matters at hand such as the fact they’d landed on a moon they weren’t supposed to be on, were here merely because the captain had apparently gotten ‘friendly’ with some Nav lackeys, and he hadn’t even tried to hide the ship. As far as she could tell he’d just…rolled to a stop on a desolate looking plain and that was it. How far did he expect them to hike? With Reeser, it’d only taken so long to get to Fiala’s estate because he didn’t want to risk their ship which…was still likely sitting on Hiduron, if the acidic atmosphere hadn’t eaten it up by now. Here, however, she wasn’t that jazzed about having to trek very far in an insulated suit and helmet. Reeser had let her take off her helmet because he had a soft spot for her. Desh probably wouldn’t tolerate her nonsense.

“Ugh, do you guys need a room or what?” she hollered from the hatch’s ladder, impatiently waiting for clearance to exit. “Stop arguing and let’s _go_.”

Now the captain snorted. “You heard her.”

Whatever Desh retorted was definitely not something nice. Paz glared at the irked Hylerian regardless, pacing the ground before the ladder as he stomped down. He jutted his chin at her, swooping onto the ladder and bound for the hatch.

“Make sure your helmet’s secure.”

She waited until he had his hand on the clearance pad before shoving the offensive gear on and locking it tight. All too quickly that weird feeling of close, artificial pressure consumed her, but at least it was rather temperate. She could deal with it.

In the teeny antechamber Desh picked up a pack that was slung over one shoulder, and then unlocked a cabinet to retrieve a rifle as well. Just one. A step away Paz jealously eyed it, well aware she’d been given nothing this time, not even an awful tracking bracelet. She supposed he already had other weapons on his person. At least she had absom if it came down to it. Hopefully it was as volatile as she imagined.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” she remarked, voice echoing around her. “Just open the door, tell me which direction to go, and—”

“He’s going,” the captain growled in her ear, making her jump a bit. Right. The comm was tied to them both. Wonderful.

She kept her mouth shut, climbing right after Desh once the hatch yawned open, an odd sense of muted freedom overwhelming her the second her boots hit dry, dusty ground. Sand, actually. A hazy pink sky illuminated the environment in warm light, and for a second it hit her that she’d seen something like this in popular vids before.

As Desh did a quick survey of their barren surroundings, she took in a deep breath and pretended this was a beach. It sort of looked like it. Well, kind of. With the ladder retracting and hatch closing up she kicked at the soft sand, taking in its rough blue color. Okay, not _exactly_ like what she’d see in vids but close enough. And there were dunes. All around them were slight mounds of sand along with some rocky outcrops. The stone was a different color, a pale grey if her helmet’s visor was to be trusted.

Man, she hated her gear. It did act a bit like a real comm though, displays monitoring all sorts of things in her peripheral, something she hadn’t noticed on her last trip. And…yep, there were her comm’s links to Desh and Coram. Ugh. This felt more like a trap than a real mission.

“Let’s go,” Desh called. She whipped about to see him already headed for a dune on their left. Staggering through the sand she slowly followed, only glancing back at their cruiser once. At least with that huge pack Desh wore he’d be easy to spot should she get lost.

She hoped she didn’t. As barren as this place looked, she remembered the captain had said something about native life here. She didn’t want to find out what it was like if it could be helped.


	22. Ch 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's in the giant abandoned colony, what's in the giant abandoned colony, what's in the--

At least with Reeser she’d been able to complain. Here on Centurion Alpha, Paz’s mouth went try from disuse on their trek across a seemingly endless swath of off-colored dunes. She’d bitch, but then Coram would hear and she didn’t want him eavesdropping.

Thus, she was stuck panting after Desh for what felt like a dizzying number of kilometers.

They rested twice in the shadows of large dunes. Both times she probably should’ve done more than collapse in the sand but she didn’t want to nap, didn’t want to be unconscious around Desh. He could clearly kill her if he so wished, and he likely stayed alert so his rifle wouldn’t go ‘missing’. Just because he was guiding her didn’t mean they had any more than zero percent trust in one another.

At least the trip was pretty. Prettier than she’d anticipated, at least. Beyond the sandy desert they crossed Alpha did have mountains in the distance; large, cragged things that gave the horizon some character. And, given how the sands constantly shifted there was some sort of breeze out here making the air a hazy purple at times. Overhead the pinkish sky never really changed, but the planet Alpha revolved around did. Every so often she’d look up to find its muddled surface showcasing a new landscape than when she’d last checked. Honestly, seeing that change was probably the most interesting part of their walk.

Tired, and more than ready to give up about seven hours in, Paz was at least rewarded with the oddest looking structure on the horizon. It…sort of appeared like the colossal containers that formed the thick skin of most colonies: a hulking, black sarcophagus that should’ve theoretically protected inhabitants from radiation as well as contained some kind of livable atmosphere inside. Despite that, it seemed…odd. A good portion of it had sunk below ground and around it where loose dunes should’ve been lay barren craters instead. The closer they drew the more she realized the giant hull was in incredibly poor condition, too, and not just from the environment.

At some point, Centurion Alpha had been heavily assaulted, its sides uneven and blistered from those attacks.

At least it appeared deserted. They hadn’t run into anything (or anyone) on the way here, giving her the hope that maybe it’d stay that way.

“Headquarters is in there, ye?” she finally asked Desh on the last stretch to the colossal structure. She knew it was—she just wanted to make sure and his helmet’s bob gave her a little relief. Good. They were almost to the goal, almost inside. If the hull wasn’t _too_ damaged she could probably take off her gear. Even if she couldn’t, Desh’d set up a tent in there so they could eat before figuring out how to infiltrate an abandoned colony.

“Do you think it’ll be vented?” she asked several minutes later, the sarcophagus looming closer. They’d already stepped into the shadow of the tallest side.

“It’s likely,” Desh answered, voice quiet in her helmet. He left it at that. Paz checked the suit’s displays, frowning in contempt. Already they were walking in an atmosphere that contained nine percent oxygen. Now, she didn’t quite understand the science but she knew people in Fed space generally breathed around twenty percent—alarms would be buzzing all over a colony if it wasn’t close to that level. Something about pressure and such indicated the rest of it but she didn’t care enough to have ever learned more than it needed to be around that magical twenty percent. Hiduron had hovered around forty percent from what she recalled thanks to its vast forests.

Hylerians, however, could probably get away with less than the norm. She’d never tried but if Desh turned his back maybe she’d test it. Why not? They were supposed to be hardy and it wasn’t like the suit’s comm was picking up anything too noxious. Honestly, she was beginning to consider herself a genius because it sort of made perfect sense why anyone would’ve picked Alpha. It was almost suitable for habitation.

Hmm. Was this what it was like to think critically? Maybe she should try it more often. Maybe cool it with the lotus when she returned to Osiris. She felt pretty good and had even proven to herself that she could mind herself if she had to.

Ugh, that was just what that dickhead wanted her to think—

“Careful,” Desh announced perhaps two hundred meters from the battered walls. Paz slowed when he did, eyes taking in the uneven ground they tread. “Watch where you step. Federation might’ve left but they still don’t want people here.”

“You don’t say,” she breathed, scanning the ground anyway for traps and the like. She didn’t feel anything inorganic, not close at any rate. A little louder she added, “I don’t feel anything.”

“Doesn’t mean we don’t approach with caution,” he murmured back, too concentrated to deal with her snark. Paz fell silent again, thinking her bitter thoughts instead. If she knew what to look for maybe his warning would be more helpful. He wasn’t inclined to tell her though so she stepped where he stepped, the two slowly making their way those last meters until they were near flush with the colony’s exterior.

Still on alert she wondered how they were going to get in. Battered as the wall was it looked fairly intact. Or, given they were in the shadow, maybe she just couldn’t see.

No, her eyes were keen. Val used to send her to all sorts of dark places in search of loot. So many old cups had been claimed by her in musty corners of Fed space. A few more useful things, sure, but mostly cups. Those sold really well per Val. Paz had no idea why, nor had she ever cared.

She’d ask Desh where he planned on breaking in but he beat her to it. One hand raised to their left, deeper into the shadow, toward the corner of the colony. Paz fought to keep her groan in, carefully picking after him once more. This was such a joke. _Why_ couldn’t they have wandered that way in the first place? Why couldn’t Coram have dropped them closer instead of spending half a day in the desert? Ugh, why was she suddenly so inquisitive? None of this mattered. All she needed were the artifacts, and then she could go.

“Would it be too much to ask you to stop huffing?” Desh requested, making Paz’s face heat up. “It’s distracting.”

His odd grunts of determination had been distracting on the way here but she’d said nothing about that. Guess she’d turned into the politer of the two in the past couple hours.

“Hmm,” was all she sounded out instead. His back hunched up as he paused.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“ _What_?”

“ _Nothing_. Just keep going.”

He did, and she had a feeling when Coram growled in her helmet it was just for her.

“Let him focus.”

Oh, it was so tempting to throw a fit. Paz ignored them both, two paces behind Desh on his slow investigation along the wall. He was taking forever. She’d die of boredom before he found something.

Fortunately he stopped well before the edge, seemingly at random until he placed a splayed palm on the weathered metal surface about a meter over his head. He stood there for a good long moment, and then the metal beneath his hand pushed open with a satisfying click. Quickly he pulled back the metal on hinges she couldn’t see even with her eyes, revealing a panel that presumably led to a way inside. It’d better. She was sick of this already.

Coram had clearly briefed him on this: Desh mumbled foreign words under his breath, nodding as he tapped at the panel. Taking a closer look, Paz found any visible keys were like…sort of common Federation characters, but not really. Just the way they looked seemed odd and she couldn’t make sense of them. Desh obviously had, stepping back a bit when he was finished. The wall shuddered before them as another, large slice of metal at least a meter thick popped forth, this time with a pressurized hiss.

They’d found an airlock. An airlock a couple meters off the uneven ground, but an airlock nonetheless. From the sound of it the colony was still sealed well enough but they’d see once they were in.

Grasping the lock’s edge, Desh put his back into it and pried it open as far as it would go. As he moved aside Paz meekly stared into the wall, a dark (of course), empty room free of debris as their reward. What? No, that couldn’t be. It was almost like it’d been waiting for them.

Without stalling for Desh she stepped up and ducked inside, already searching for anything that might resemble another security panel. Sure enough there was an outlet on the other side of the room, which meant… She ran a glove over the wall and ceiling, the upper part a lot closer than she would’ve liked. Yep, there was a tightly sealed gap. This was their way in.

“We’ve got a door,” she chirped, voice coming out smaller than intended.

“Ready?” Desh breathed. Even he sounded softer. Stepping to the other panel Paz grunted she was, patiently waiting while he yanked on the outer door once more. It groaned shut and he tugged hard even once it was shut, just to ensure it was sealed, enveloping them in pitch black. One of them would need to get their suit’s light going or else—

A dim light flickered above them, the walls coming to life with that same glow in a dozen panels. Paz stiffened, somehow intimidated. Each one was in that same familiar-but-strange language, and the fact they were suddenly surrounded by it was…weird.

“Isn’t this supposed to be dead?” she squeaked, unsure what to do. Desh was at one of the panels, working over the characters there with just a bit of hesitancy. His helmet bobbled.

“Abandoned, not dead, apparently. Works in our favor.” How’d he figure they’d break in if the door didn’t work? As if he knew what she was thinking he added, “Let’s hope inside’s in as good condition.”

The pit of Paz’s stomach dropped. She wasn’t confident about that. Honestly, up until now she’d imagined they’d walk up to some desolate, abandoned building where she’d poke around in the sand, find the artifact, and then they’d jet. _Now_ however, incredibly aware of how large the colony truly was, she had no idea what to expect.

And perhaps, when the floor quivered beneath their boots for longer than they expected, they should’ve taken that as a sign. There’d been no tremors outside. That had to be a coincidence. Had to.

Fuck, her gear was too tight. She wanted to chuck off her helmet, maybe pry open the outer door again. It hadn’t been like this before, but then again she’d been relatively free on Hiduron. Here her heart was racing, walls closing in. Why was she—was this _panic_? _Why_? She’d never freaked out before, not like this. She’d been pissed plenty of times, and normally yeah this would be one of those occasions, but for whatever reason she just—

“Stop it,” she breathed, swaying to a corner and dropping to her haunches. Every inch of her was taut and she didn’t dare look up to ensure Desh was still working on the panel. “You’re fine.”

“You okay?” Coram murmured in her ear and since Desh wasn’t in her face she supposed only she heard it. She shook her head, attempting to clear a cloying dizziness.

“Don’t talk to me,” she hissed back, which Desh _did_ hear.

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

“Keep going,” she stressed, ignoring them both. After a moment she hauled upright, careful not to touch anything. She was tripping. There was nothing wrong. Plans hadn’t changed. It couldn’t be any worse than Hiduron, right? She probably wouldn’t try electrocuting herself out here at any rate. Yeah. Yeah, this’d be fine.

A little better, she focused on Desh’s movements. He’d stopped working on the panel, reaching behind him for his rifle. He seemed ready to use it, which she appreciated. She’d let him do all the hard work he could.

Another hiss filled the chamber, the internal door pulling back. Paz stared at it, watching, waiting, the metal squealing angrily as it slowly peeled open. Desh swore, a very uncharacteristic thing coming from him, but she echoed the sentiment hardly a second later, already wide eyes growing.

There was a hallway before them, a stark, rusting hall that would look straight out of any colony in its internal workings. This, however, differed in the fact that there were bones scattered everywhere. Well, that wasn’t quite true. Most had been pushed toward the walls but there were _many_ and scraps of tattered clothing were woven in here and there. Skulls littered the piles, all of it dry and covered in dust.

For once Paz was _so_ glad she’d kept her helmet on.

The dust was thick though, covering both skeletons and the floor. Cobwebs drifted in the slight breeze the door had brought. Nobody had been through this way in a long, long time so…that was reassuring.

That Hylerian focus returned and Paz dared taking a step toward the bones, careful where she placed her feet. One hand beckoned Desh with. “Shoot anything that moves, alright?”

“You don’t give orders,” he easily retorted. Judging by his shadow he was prepared to do just that anyway. Good.

Since he was busy she fiddled with her suit until a small beam shone from her helmet. Creepy as the bones were, she didn’t care so long as nothing came to do the same thing to them. Bracing herself, Paz set off down the corridor, ignoring the trail. They’d mostly pittered out by the time she reached a stairwell, another door at the bottom though it wasn’t secure. Judging by its dilapidated, half-open status that also didn’t look like it’d been disturbed in ages, she’d say they were in the clear. For now.

Coram was strangely quiet. She suspected he was talking to Desh, not her. Dickheads, both of them. She was busy anyway, pushing right down the steps and sidling through the door. The hall continued, likely adjacent to the sarcophagus’s outer wall. At regular intervals were stairs. She kept going, senses pulling her down, following the path until she hit a very large landing that seemed to halt right before a void-like chasm. A thin railing acted as a barrier but it hardly looked stable enough to lean on. Paz kept her distance, eyeing the grated ground instead.

There wasn’t as much dust here, though there was a lot of debris. Rock crumbles and…broken tiles, she guessed, presumably from somewhere above. It finally occurred to her, too, that everything was tilted. Quite a bit more debris lay toward the barrier than her spot near the end of the corridor.

Despite Desh’s hushed warning she took a couple steps out, hoping the platform would hold. It creaked just by her being on it, and she knew right then that Desh probably shouldn’t join her until they were sure it was secure. If the whole thing collapsed, and he fell with the rifle…

She didn’t want to think about it, but as she inched her way closer to the railing she did have to wonder. Coram was captain of the Osiris, presumably in control of their entire operation. Desh, as far as she knew, was second in command. Both were currently here, with her, and not with the Lakai.

“Who’s in charge when you’re both gone?” she had to ask, mostly to distract herself from potential doom.

“My third,” Coram easily answered. He didn’t elaborate, and she went through the newish faces of everyone she’d seen more than once on board, curious who their third would be. Was it bad she didn’t know? Probably. But she hadn’t cared and still didn’t to some degree. She was here to find things, nothing more.

“Is it Aim?” she wondered, sure it wasn’t but guessing nonetheless. “Wait, no—what about that blonde chick? She hangs out a lot in the same hall as your office—.” The platform groaned heavily, grates shivering. Desh snarled in warning and she at least stopped, each muscle frozen in waiting. Accidental death wasn’t really high on her list of badass ways to go.

“Not the blonde chick,” the captain demurred. “Be careful, Paz.”

He didn’t usually call her that. She didn’t know why she noticed. Creeping closer to the edge seemed ill-advised. She went ahead and shifted her weight forward anyway, fingers clenching in her gloves. There wasn’t another path or hall past the platform. Far as she could tell there was a ladder or something on the far edge, and that was probably going to be their way down.

“So this was just a colony, right?” she asked, careful to keep any lingering doubts from her tone. “All that’s gonna be in here are some old collapsed buildings and the like, _right_?”

“You watch too many vids,” Coram muttered the same time Desh answered with an unequivocal “Yes.” Good. Okay. That sounded fine.

Until Desh added, “So long as the structural integrity’s there, nothing should be in here. You know, beyond the…”

“I know,” she dismally finished for him, scooting out just a hair closer to the rail, pulse skyrocketing. The flooring beneath her boots physically strained. This was a terrible idea. “Nothing but bones. Got it.”

“ _Bones_?”

Oh, Desh hadn’t told the captain about the skeletons? Paz carefully swiveled on a heel to glare at the other Hylerian. No matter he couldn’t see it. “Uh, ye. Didn’t your second tell you about the horde of skeletons we waded through to—”

Somehow, somewhere, something snapped beneath her and the platform essentially imploded.


	23. Ch 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well, looks like they weren't at all prepared for a watery grave, or ancient tech.

_Shit_.

Metal screeched as it fell from beneath Paz, taking her with, her muted gasp an afterthought. Desh and the hall disappeared along with what little light there was, her helmet’s tiny beam shooting out into inky darkness that couldn’t really be penetrated, the sounds of corroded titanium and steel filling the void around her. Barreling downward with nothing to stop her, Paz barely had enough time to think about what she should do beyond holding out her arms and flailing like an idiot. The hope was she might somehow catch herself but honestly who knew how far to the ground it’d be?

By the time she managed a strangled yelp her stomach was in her throat and she was pretty sure she was going to die. Death by splattering on the ground; what a dumb way to go. At least if they’d crashed earlier thanks to Coram’s piss-poor piloting that could’ve been something respectable. This? Definitely not.

And yet, even as she braced for a spectacular splatter, or maybe breaking her neck on some sort of debris first, it never came. No, first the metal and its screeching around her cut itself off, and half a second later she knew why.

She made quite a splash when she hit some sort of liquid, plunging beneath its surface the same time the rest of the platform did. Her light did nothing besides show her the nearest part of the platform collapsed over her, dragging her down quicker through bubbling liquid. At this point she was definitely panicking, utterly shocked and having forgotten every single little thing she was supposed to do should something go wrong. Screaming seemed like a good idea but she could hardly think about trying that. No, no, she was busy trying to hold up the sinking platform that was definitely pushing her further and further into a dark abyss she knew absolutely nothing about.

Nobody had said _anything_ about mysterious liquid.

Something hard and unyielding abruptly halted her descent, crushing Paz for a too-long moment while the platform fell, then tilted, before slithering off. Well, most of it. Its remnants must’ve hit something else. It groaned but stayed in place, leaving her pinned to whatever she’d smacked into and struggling to twist and find purchase. The platform had to come off. She had to be rid of it first and foremost, and then she could see about perhaps swimming to the surface. Thinking about _what she was in_ was not something to process at the moment.

But she’d be dead by now, right? If her suit wasn’t recycling oxygen? Right? Fuck she couldn’t think about that right now. Every ounce of strength went toward wrenching her body one way, arms striking out until she punched into something solid and grip-able. Immediately she latched on, muscles straining in her bid to both hold onto her new handle and slide around it. It was so difficult to do when she didn’t know where she was going or _how_ she should do it, but she twisted around her handle, beam illuminating just enough in front of her to watch a minuscule portion of the platform sag one way, then settle in a silent waver.

It’d stopped, for now.

Hoping for the best Paz left it alone and pulled herself upward from the handle, kicking madly, desperate to reach the surface. It hadn’t felt like she’d dropped very far but she couldn’t be sure, not until she hit that barrier. So she kicked and kicked, arms pulling through—water? Well, mostly water according to her helmet’s peripherals, though it was spazzing out,casting all kinds of warnings she couldn’t pay attention to. Fuck, she hadn’t even realized the noise in her ear wasn’t coming from around her until now. Desh was yelling, as was Coram, and it was in Hylerian so that wasn’t helpful at all but beyond that it was so incredibly garbled it wouldn’t have mattered. Something about about being underwater wasn’t conducive to her suit’s needs and it was _not_ pleased.

She wasn’t pleased, either, but if this wasn’t just water then she needed the suit. Goddamnit, she _loved_ the stupid suit at the moment.

She especially loved when her helmet broke through some sort of surface, and through her visor a minuscule dot of light swung wildly from up above. There was Desh. Her surfacing must’ve been loud enough; the light instantly focused downwards and in her direction, her own light helping a little. She exhaled heavily with a curse, then went under once more due to her suit’s weight. Awesome.

Well, at least she was close to the surface. She kicked her way up again, arms waving in free air the instant it was possible. In her helmet she panted and gasped at Desh to look for her light.

“Got you.” His voice was so, _so_ fucking loud in her ear, overpowering everything else. She wanted to scream at him to shut up but he was trying to get her attention and he certainly had, especially when a milky beam wavered just above her. She’d gone under again. Ugh. Treading water until she died was also a lame-ass way to go.

“I’m sending down a rope, okay?” Desh kept talking. “Swim to the light. I’ll send it down in just a second.”

At this point she was okay with taking any orders so long as she might get out of the water. Paz paddled as fast as she could, above and under water, madly forcing her way toward the bobbling light above. Whatever was underneath her she didn’t wish to think about, not yet. Focusing on the light was all she cared about, at least until her boots began bumping into rigid things below. No, no, no, that couldn’t be possible. She’d fallen quite a ways into the water, hadn’t she? She tread a little more delicately, hoping her suit didn’t catch on anything. Nobody had told her how tough it was but she _really_ didn’t want to test it at the moment.

“Come to me,” Desh softly coaxed, sounding like an entirely different person. His light streaked down into the dark, pinpointing a spot a couple dozen meters before her. Paz kept pushing, heart pounding in her chest. She hadn’t swum in forever, barely even knew how. There weren’t a lot of chances to swim on a ship, but it was nice to know all that work she’d done in the gym only helped her efforts. “That’s it, come to me.”

A thin rope sat in the water, meters of it disappearing beneath the surface. Paz grabbed it soon as she reached the light, the wall just centimeters away. While she clung to the rope she could feel it growing in tension, and suddenly she was holding onto something that kept her head above water. A plethora of thanks to the stars and various gods she’d heard of escaped her lips. She wrapped her legs around the rope just to be safe.

“There’s water down here,” she wheezed, attempting to catch her breath, helmet resting against the wall. “Surprise.”

“You good?” Coram asked, also sounding very unlike himself. “What happened?”

“Oh, you know, the fucking walkway collapsed.” Reorienting herself a little Paz focused on the darkness before her. Her light revealed pretty much nothing, at least nothing close. Even as she was slowly reeled up the beam never crossed anything but that dark sheen of water. “Fell into some…water, I think. Great experience.”

“Hang tight,” the captain breathed, as if he could coach her through this. She’d slap him if he were here. “Desh’s gonna pull you up.”

“I don’t think there’s another way down,” she said over Coram, sure Desh could hear her. He was taking his time pulling her up. “Not where we came from, anyway.”

“We’ll figure that out later,” came Desh’s harried reply. “Just—hold on.”

Paz did, grip tightening. She looked up into the abyss only to see the blinding light from his helmet, and then glanced back out to the apparent lake they’d stumbled upon. What were they supposed to do now? It wasn’t like she was going to go diving for—

Well…she did already have a suit on.

Meter by meter Desh hoisted her up, and while he remained mostly quiet Coram was going on about how they’dwork their way around this, perhaps at a later date, something she couldn’t agree to because she needed to be back with the Osiris as soon as possible. Knowing this, she stared hard into the dead colony, trying to envision the second artifact. Was it even here? Or, would they be so lucky to travel to Centurion Beta? But they wouldn’t head there if they couldn’t tell where the artifact was.

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, she cast those Hylerian senses out like a net, hoping it’d find something familiar. Coram had said the next one was essentially the same and that image he’d shown perpetuated that. She remembered exactly how the last artifact felt, how it’d silently presented itself to her even before she’d seen it, and the odd hum it seemed to carry. Everything about it had been off-putting, and so she looked for something similar here.

As much as she hoped it’d be elsewhere, she knew it had to be here. Unless Alpha had flooded oh, say, last week, then there was a good chance most of the place was untouched. Sure, Coram said he’d seen items from here on the black market but that could be easily faked. Paz knew—before their lotus business really took off, Val regularly sold counterfeit tech from early Federation days. None of it was real; Sentia just cranked out fake pieces based on schematics from old files and Mandrelle would bang them around for that antique look. Couple that with a wide-eyed Hylerian looking down on her luck and of course credits would roll in.

Here, however, it was different. Paz didn’t know _everything_ about Alpha, or any colony for that matter, but this place hadn’t been touched in a while, and the armada orbiting the moon indicated the Nav meant business. They didn’t want people here.

Meaning, there was some good shit to plunder in here so long as one wanted it bad enough. She had a feeling most scavengers weren’t in the business of diving, but they weren’t her. More specifically, their heart didn’t lurch the second she honed in on something…something deep down within the colony, something ancient and still radiating a sort of presence that, while faint, felt exactly like the artifact at Fiala’s estate.

It was in here, likely untouched since whenever this flood occurred.

Her mouth popped open when her gaze caught on a slight flash far across the water, a…pulse. Desh was still reeling her up but she stared where she thought she’d seen it, thinking that couldn’t be possible. It couldn’t. This place was dead.

It happened again though, flickering in the distance, calling to her. Even as she was hauled up Paz couldn’t help wondering how she was going to get to it. She didn’t know why, she just had to go. It was right there. If they left now it’d be weeks before they could try again to find it. Right now. Water and sunken colony be damned, she could do it.

“Wait—stop,” she called up to Desh, interrupting whatever Coram was on about. The rope halted, but it was very obvious he’d rather keep going.

“What’s wrong?” the captain asked, hazy in her ear as she looked out. The pulse was steady as could be. Rhythmic. Did Desh see it? If he didn’t then maybe she wasn’t as ‘called’ to it as she thought.

“Desh,” she called up, gaze averting just slightly. “You see that?”

His huff of contempt and pull on the rope indicated he didn’t care but he made a cursory scan of the darkness. “See what? All I see is—”

He cut himself off as the little pulse made itself known. It wasn’t very bright and definitely couldn’t have been seen from the previous platform above without looking hard, but it was there. Licking her lips, Paz decided to go for it.

“I’ll check it out.”

Almost immediately there was noise from two people in her helmet, both Desh and Coram vehemently rejecting the notion. And, as if he knew what she’d do, Desh began heaving her up at a dizzying speed.

“Nah, we’re leaving,” he decided. She was already within meters of being pulled to safety. “We’ll—whatever that is it can wait.”

“But—”

“ _It can wait_ ,” Coram echoed, which pissed her off enough to consider letting go. He was right, it absolutely could wait, but they were already here. She might as well—

Divine providence occurred, as if the universe itself had been offended by the men’s idea to back out. Desh had just reached down to pull her the last few meters up when the rope snapped with an audible twang. Her scream was much more loud and this time Paz didn’t hold back, cursing Desh as she plunged several dozen meters, hitting the water feet first and praying to _all_ entities that it was deep enough she wouldn’t impale herself on anything jagged.

She didn’t, that cloying, viscous feeling enveloping her instead. Somehow she hadn’t hit her head or anything important, and the rope was still gripped tightly in one hand like it might come in handy down here. Panic definitely flooded her mind for a second but she let it happen, then calmed herself, allowing the suit’s weight to pull her down into the depths. Her light she tried pointing below, or as closely as she could, anticipating running into something soon.

All the while Desh and Coram were back to yelling. She wasn’t sure if it was meant for her or each other, ignoring them for the most part. At some point she did think to growl at them that she was okay, which coerced them to shut up for about five seconds, but at least they knew she was alive. She could’ve been a real bitch and never said a thing again. Let them sweat it out.

But no, at least they knew. And now she was simply sinking through murky water in hopes of eventually hitting a bottom, then hopefully wading toward where that pulse came from—both the light and the artifact. She could still feel it. Even in her thrumming veins she knew they were one and the same.

Cursing, Desh finally told her something hopeful. He sounded much more clear this time, somehow. “I’m gonna backtrack, okay? Gonna look for a switch. Maybe, if this place isn’t totally dead, there’s still some power. I’ll be here if anything happens, okay?”

Still sinking, Paz rolled her eyes at his (unusually chatty) promise. What was he going to do? Jump in? So long as nothing _living_ lurked down here she figured she’d be fine.

No, no. She couldn’t think about _that_.

Odd, shadowed shapes drifted past, though thankfully all seemed stationary. She figured some were from the fallen platform and other bits looked like structural beams jutting up toward the ceiling. She must’ve hit one the first time she’d crashed in. It was mildly interesting to watch them go by, all the way until her boots slipped against something solid.

Paz let her weight settle, let the suit examine its surroundings, and once again prayed it wouldn’t spring a leak down here. As she swayed on an invisible, gentle current it sort of felt like a space walk. Kind of. She hadn’t gone on one in a while (Val highly frowned on them) but the weightlessness was familiar. The murkiness wasn’t, though that couldn’t be helped.

By now the men had gone quiet, Coram breaking the tense silence with a soft, “Please tell me you’re not dead.”

Paz couldn’t help snorting. “‘M fine. How long do scrubbers last?”

“Long enough,” he answered, sighing. “Hang in there. Please don’t die.”

As if he cared. Weird.

“It wasn’t my fault,” she lamented after a beat, shifting her hips. “Rope snapped.”

“Mm.”

That was not a very committed grunt. Figuring he’d check in when he wanted, Paz slowly slid one boot forward, searching for an edge. She was going to find the artifact; he didn’t need to know that. They’d both already put down the idea so she wouldn’t say anything. Easy.

Her boot found nothing the further she slid. She moved the other boot, carefully inching deeper into the inky darkness. It didn’t feel like solid ground, more smooth like metal, so she expected an edge at some point.

“Desh’s looking for power,” the captain mused, as if she needed an update. “We’ll bring in supplies soon as we can.”

“From the ship?” Wasn’t he dozens of kilometers away?

“Ye.”

“Um, why didn’t you land closer if you were just gonna come on over anyway?”

“It attracts attention,” he flatly replied. “But we’re not leaving you down there so…we’ll need to hurry.”

_Oh_. Paz kept quiet and after another beat he exhaled.

“Topaz. Don’t go looking for it. It’s fine.”

She’d found the edge. Timidly jumping off she held out her arms, hoping it’d help with balance. “Tch, and here I thought you didn’t like me.”

“I—.” He paused, and when he continued his voice was lethally quiet in her ear. “It’s one thing returning you alive to Val. That we might survive. But if you’re dead? Nah, not gonna see how that works out.”

Paz smirked in spite of herself, relieved when her boots hit another solid surface. She hadn’t gone far. “Relax, man. I’m gonna get your stick. You hang out in the boonies, okay? This’ll be fine.”

“I cannot imagine you bumbling around being _fine_ ,” he growled, and the exasperated sigh beside his words indicated they were all on the comm. Great. Feeling around, Paz stepped off another ledge and floated deeper.

“You keep looking for power, Desh,” she said to the other Hylerian, ignoring Coram’s ire. “A little more light might help. A rifle would’ve, too, but I know, can’t be trusted with those.”

“You see anything?” came Desh’s frantic gasp. Surprised he was so worried Paz tried examining the swirling darkness.

“Ah, no? But I’m just saying…it’d make a great propellant.”

They both muttered in Hylerian, both sounding very tired. Despite the gloom she did enjoy that.

“You two didn’t know I could be that smart, huh?”

“ _Creative_ ,” the captain bit back. “Dunno about smart.”

Semantics. Paz dropped farther, this time sliding down whatever she’d found for a good long stretch. Never picking up speed was what made her confident; otherwise she would’ve never tried blindly jumping. How long until she hit the bottom?”

“I’ll head closer,” Coram announced after a while, and to no one in particular. “If anything happens I’ll come.”

“Dude this’ll be—.” She ended her dismissal in a squeak as her boots finally landed on something that felt more ground-like. Her presence kicked up a good deal of matter here, too, since all the sudden clouds of debris obscured what little she could’ve seen in the first place.

“You good?” The captain’s voice was still tight. Deciding to let him sweat, Paz took a few timid steps through the ash-like matter. Her light couldn’t penetrate anything anymore. Great. She held out both arms, shuffling like a blind person.

“Just fine,” she finally managed, noting she felt rather sweaty. Maybe ‘damp’ was the right word. She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t want ‘damp’. The others didn’t need to know that, either, not yet. “Hit the ah…bottom, I think. Gonna grab myself a magic stick—try not to distract me, thanks.”

“Lights are coming on,” Desh added, sounding way too excited. She’d literally never heard him sound so animated before. “Dunno how far they’ll reach but we… _might_ have some glo here if this works.”

She assumed he’d found the panels he was looking for, presumably having punched in more ancient code. While he held his breath she kept going, hoping she was inching in the right direction.

Honestly, being down here was somehow the exact opposite of claustrophobia. She wasn’t afraid of how she couldn’t see or how cloistered she felt, per se, but more afraid of the…emptiness.

And, of course, the things that might lurk in such emptiness.

High above something flared, a dim light coming to life and filtering down toward her. Helmet lifting, Paz watched weak rays gradually worm their way down. A causeway of sorts suddenly became apparent around her. Rotting buildings loomed on either side, spread apart quite roomily, and she stood on some sort of…road, but it was obscured by that thick, undisturbed blanket of powdery matter. It rested in large mounds here and there—she decided she’d avoid those.

Nothing floated in the environment, no life as far as she could see. Just…an endless chasm full of decaying metal skeletons, some in better condition than others, all slowly wasting away.

It was beautiful, if a little disturbing. An unnatural chill went up her spine, amazed the place was so intact. Even if she hadn’t made it to Beta, at least Paz had now set foot _in_ a colony’s main thoroughfare.

“Thanks, Desh,” she sincerely murmured, forging ahead into the dim blue, grateful for what little light there was. “That really helped.”

“Please be careful,” he hissed back, making her pause and frown. Why were they both being such pussies? This wasn’t even that difficult. Nerve-wracking, sure, but not terrifying.

“You guys act like I’m going to get myself killed,” she grumbled, pushing off the bottom to lead ahead. “This is nothing.”

She assumed the choke of bitter laughter was from Coram. “You call this nothing?”

He didn’t know half her exploits, then. It wasn’t Paz’s fault. She had a tendency to get things done no matter the cost and sometimes—okay, a lot of times—things…tended to spiral out of control. So this? This wasn’t too taxing in the grand scheme of things.

And while she could list off all the stupid shit she’d done in the name of accomplishing a job she kept it to herself, bobbing down the way in the direction she could still feel the pulse coming from. There were more important things to do than antagonize Coram. There was a whole new world at her disposal.

Through countless blocks she bounded, definitely pretending this was a space walk more than anything. Some buildings stretched for the surface, possibly above it, while others had practically been reduced to piles, likely due to tremors. In other areas where nothing but black matter rested she figured had once been common areas. Maybe parks. A lot of this debris had probably once been plant life, or crumbling buildings. Or people. She hadn’t seen any obvious skeletons yet.

The building she’d seen in Coram’s office didn’t look anything like its real-life counterpart but she found it after a long, winding slog through Alpha’s town. Part of it was missing, more like collapsed in on itself, but it existed. A large slab stood before it though it was too dim to try and read what’d been stamped on it. Resting a moment in front of it, Paz stared. It looked…weird. The building, anyway. Past the slab and her everything was fine but beyond it…things were somehow blurry.

She found out why a beat into her staring, and what the flash she’d seen from earlier was. As if it’d been summoned a shimmer of weak orange light surged through the depths. It started from somewhere at the top of the building past where she could see, and then raced across its surface all the way around until it hit the ground. Behind it, she suddenly realized, there was no black matter covering the ground. In fact, it looked…clean. And dry. Bone dry.

Somehow Paz kept her surprise and elation to herself. She hadn’t heard from either Hylerian in a while but if they knew…if they even had an _inkling_ that an intact containment field from centuries ago was down here, they’d be clamoring to come down, too. No, this was hers. She’d discovered it, not them.

Holy fuck, a containment field. The Federation had banned those ages ago, and with good reason—too easy to trap someone inside of an impenetrable box.

Paz had no idea how they worked. Sentia had tried to make something like it once, a way to fix things on the Osiris’s hull without being hampered by a suit, but her isolated tests on rats only ended up in charred, electrocuted remains. It’d provided some morbid entertainment at the very least.

This one though…it clearly wasn’t the same, and it legitimately worked.

Fuck. She didn’t know how it worked and she didn’t want to be fried. She needed to ask, and she was sure at least one person on her comm knew how it worked because of course he would. Goddamnit.

She took several steps toward the slab, self-consciously clearing her throat. “Um. So…hypothetically, how would one pass through an antique containment field?”

“You there?” came Coram’s staticky reply. He didn’t sound surprised. Tch, figured. “Don’t—don’t touch it, not yet.”

“No duh,” she remarked, inching closer anyway. “But how do I…get in?”

“Wait,” he sternly instructed. “Listen to me. Please.”

Of all the times—

“There’s a tool in your suit’s comm.”

He gave a short explanation how to pull up specific menus on the comm, her helmet’s peripherals filling with new data. Paz barely paid attention, just doing as he said until she’d set something up that would hypothetically allow her to pass. He’d said something about lowering the magnetic reactivity in the suit but again, she wasn’t really interested. Now was not the time for a crash course in old tech. All that mattered was gaining access.

With Coram’s blessing she approached the field with tepid caution, rounding the slab’s right side. Yes, even closer it was obvious it was dry inside. Dry and mostly intact. She had a lot of building to go through but, so long as she knew her goal, she figured it’d be pretty quick. Hopefully.

Both hands clutching at her throat, Paz stepped for the field, heart pounding once more. This was it. Do or die. _Do or die_. She could do this. She’d followed his instructions as specifically as possible. If anything happened she’d blame it on him. One more step, then another, then—

Then Paz passed through. Pushing through the force her suit’s skin sizzled, water vaporizing until she found herself standing on the other side in a completely dry suit. And alive. Fuck, she’d gone through _alive_. How many people could say that?

“You knew about that?” she asked Coram, fully expecting a scathing ‘of course’ but instead there was nothing. Mute silence met her, actually, like she’d been cut off. Paz rattled off the other two’s names several times but received no response.

Ah. So there was a downside to making it through. She supposed she was on her own. While she’d normally be relieved she’d forgotten to ask if the thing he’d had her do worked for exiting, too.

Well.

She’d worry about that later. For now she checked her remaining stats. There was oxygen in here, pretty close to regular levels. She bet it reeked in here. She kept her suit and helmet on—for now.

She relished the first step she took toward what looked like the building’s main entrance, its entire facade now clear as could be. This was it. She’d infiltrated the Nav’s abandoned headquarters, and with minimal trauma.

Somewhere in here the artifact was pulling at her, telling her to come get it, and she couldn’t help the smug smirk that played across her lips as she climbed a couple steps, swaggering down the short pathway to a set of doors that appeared to be in perfect, sealed, condition. On either side of the path there were long divots clearly meant to hold flora but nothing lay there, as if time had killed anything living. The building itself however seemed in tip-top shape. Good. She assumed there’d be no _living_ surprises once she pushed inside.

Which…quickly became a problem. Hands on both doors, she pushed, then pulled on slight raised edges cut into the metal. Nothing. Helmet swinging left and right she looked for a panel. No panel. The boys were lucky they couldn’t hear the things she snarled out next.

“Okay,” she huffed, one fist lightly banging on the right door. “Think. There’s a way in. Maybe…maybe there’s another door? Or maybe this isn’t that strong. It can’t be. It’s old. Right?”

Whatever. She banged harder, fist clenching tight.

Alright. If…if _she’d_ been in charge of a place like this a several millennia ago, she would…assume the containment field was good enough. Wait no, those were common back then. People probably knew how to get through them, and it hadn’t been flooded back then, either, making Alpha very vulnerable. Ah. Hence the visible scars on the colony itself. People had tried getting in previously. But that meant nothing if people like Desh could just hack their way in. Therefore, of course headquarters would be well fortified.

She didn’t want to take out the field, even if she could figure out how—without it she’d be back in the water and this place probably wouldn’t survive the sudden change in pressure.

Ugh, _why_ was this so complicated? She slammed her palms down on both doors, really wishing she’d been given a gun now. The one Desh carried would’ve melted right through the doors. Frustrated, Paz threw her weight at the entrance, pissed she’d probably never even get in. What, was she supposed to break a window or something?

Wait—

Barreling from the entrance she headed toward the collapsed section, carefully skirting the barrier, eyes scanning the building as she worked around it. The Nav had probably accounted for everything besides the actual building falling apart. No wonder no one had said anything about trying to gain access.

Scrambling over a pile of rubble and rising over what looked like a crumpled mess of collapsed beams and exposed wires, she vaguely wondered why Coram knew so much about this place yet hadn’t been inside, or even near it. Had he? Minus the water it was like he’d planned for every other step.

Because there, in the mess of structured chaos, lay a gaping void that’d probably usher her right into the building’s main floor so long as she could climb through a tangle of massive steel cables and some foundational rubble. Paz could definitely do that. She hadn’t once been dubbed a monkey for nothing, grasping a fallen beam and starting a quick ascent. Some bits crumbled after her but she kept going, contorting through the space between wires and slithering down into the dark void, a newfound sense of accomplishment coming over her as she clawed her way onto a remarkably clean floor. A real, paneled hall was suddenly at her disposal.

Coram could suck it. Like hell she would’ve left Alpha without at least trying to check this out.

Okay, she wasn’t as confident when the ground quivered, building shivering right along with it as a small tremor passed. Crouching closer to the outer wall, Paz covered her helmet and ignored the ugly wobbling in her empty stomach. Maybe taking precautions would’ve been a good idea. Still, she was already here so she might as well get it over with. The second the tremor faded she was back on her feet, jogging down the hall, weak beam guiding her through a maze of corridors that had limited damage and debris.

Nothing looked very ancient, which was the weirdest part. Halls were covered in mostly intact metal panels, a Federation standard, with a few decorated in what she could only imagine was Nav propaganda, its writing still odd but pictures looking just as pompous as usual. Other panels held locked containers holding canisters of some kind, foreign warning labels still in place. She wasn’t sure what they held, didn’t care since they weren’t giving off that artifact vibe.

Nothing looked out of place for the most part. Had Federation Space been maintaining the same aesthetic for centuries? _Why_? Didn’t anyone ever get sick of the familiar paneling and grated floors? She would’ve.

But then again, she wasn’t…wasn’t from a Federation born background.

No. She wasn’t going to start thinking like that, especially not now.

Corridors blended. Everything looked the same, so similar to destroyed frigates she’d boarded in the past to search for loot. Normally on those solitary hunts she’d be grooving along to her comm’s playlists in order to keep focused. Humming would have to suffice here. The boys were better off not having to listen to her poor renditions while she trotted down tunnels, then stairs, then more insufferable tunnels.

Some had collapsed or were impassable, particularly on lower levels, so she worked around those where she could, only cramming herself through when her senses told her they would lead her to the artifact. _Of course_ it’d be as far from the surface as the Nav could bury it. Good on the motherfuckers for being so thorough. Countless tunnels in and she began expecting to find things more valuable than just the stick.

She’d better. This was goddamn tedious and she wanted to take a nap.

Which was probably why, when she finally hit a secure door, she collapsed on her ass and stared at the dim lights winking on its access panel. The stick was beyond it, she could feel it in her blood, and close, too. Was there another way in? Probably, but she _really_ didn’t want to backtrack. Sliding to her back she dazedly eyed the ceiling and tried not to scream her frustration.

This one. _This_ mission was really testing her patience. Seriously, one of the others should’ve done this. She had no tools, no idea how to hack tech. _She_ was not good at that kind of shit. Sentia could’ve. Mandrelle would just pry it open—or blast the whole thing away. Lonyn or Val would’ve never bothered with this stupid nonsense, a very smart decision in all honesty, and Sam…

Her chest squeezed tight, missing him terribly all the sudden. She didn’t know what he might do in her position, probably look at every logical solution, but she didn’t think like that. She didn’t know…how, because he’d always done it for her.

“What would you do, then?” she quietly asked as if he were here, legs stretching out until her boots hit the door. “What should _I_ do?”

_Do what you do best._ She could practically feel his breath on her neck, encouraging her in spirit. Vision a bit watery, Paz blinked back tears and tried focusing on the ceiling once more. There had to be a way, something she could do to get in. Why was this so hard? Why couldn’t she just break shit and—

No, not break shit, but break _in_.

Jerking back to her feet she scanned the ceiling again. Panels, everywhere. The door likely didn’t extend past its designated sleeve. A plan was already coming together, past experience making her stupidly brave.

“Motherfuckers!” she crazily yelled at no one in particular, but mostly any lingering Nav ghosts. “Thought you could keep this a secret— _not from me_!”

She zipped back down the hall to the last canister she’d seen, ripping it out of its case. It dropped to the floor with a loud thunk, bringing Paz with. Seeing this’d be difficult she checked her stats for oxygen, then let go and started stripping her suit. She’d need a good grip for this and probably less mass if her idea had any chance of succeeding.

Oh yes, it _reeked_. She spluttered once her helmet was off and strategically placed so the beam filtered down the hall, choking on the noxious scent of trapped time. Oh, _fuck,_ it was awful. Her eyes watered, chest tightening even more as she tried to keep sucking in air. She only had to put up with it for a while.

Okay, okay, so she may have puked up some bile after staggering to the other side of the hall, but after a few more breaths…she was fine. Her blood was pumping, heart getting used to it. Good. Great.

Relieved of both weight and the suit’s claustrophobic containment she hauled the canister up into her arms, tired muscles straining yet holding, then booked it back toward the door on a little bit of light and memory. Her heart did _not_ enjoy such movement while also having to pump oxygen poor blood but it held on, as if every bit of her was working to hold it together until the situation could be improved.

Back at the door she dropped the canister, then ran back to retrieve her suit and helmet. Anything of importance (aka the little vials of absom) were emptied into her pant pockets on the way. At this point she knew what she was doing was insane but she just…she really wanted the stick. Thank goodness no one was here to watch.

The canister was wedged against the right wall and door, giving her some stability. Then, grabbing her helmet, Paz tilted her head back to examine which panel was closest. Her light would likely die after this but at least the door emitted some. She’d deal with that issue in a moment. Door, first.

She carefully hauled herself to the top of the canister, heart hammering with effort. The canister itself gave her about two more meters of height, bringing her incredibly close to the ceiling. Fumbling with her helmet, she studied the tiny link between panels for just a moment before smashing her gear into it with all her might. A metallic crunch echoed through the hall, debris raining down. Eyes shut, she waited a beat before doing it again. More debris crashed over her, and then—

One of the panels buckled, popping free of its position and dropping to the ground with a heavy clatter. Paz had sunk herself into the door as much as possible, narrowly avoiding being smashed. Wincing only slightly, she dared peer up. A brand new, square void was suddenly available to her, and the best part was her helmet’s light still worked. Success! She didn’t have the energy to utter a maniacal laugh of triumph but she was certainly congratulating herself.

Shoving the helmet up into the space first, she went next. Her fingers hooked onto the ceiling’s edge and she wriggled like an idiot until she managed pulling herself up into the cramped area. Beam aside it was dark as hell and for a moment, when she twisted around, she thought she might’ve overestimated her _creativity,_ but no, there was a small passage forward.

Her helmet wouldn’t fit. _She_ could barely fit even half dangling out into the hall, but she could contort. Bones could squeeze together. She’d make herself fit.

Grasping the helmet, she shoved the light into the tight path forward. It was further cramped with excessive wiring but it looked intact. And, while the path seemed to turn several meters away she didn’t care about that. She didn’t need to go far, just enough to circumvent the door. Huffing and puffing, she squeezed past her helmet and slithered through the crawlspace, metal and wires closing in on every side but forward.

Thus she wiggled that way, shoulders and hips folding into themselves when necessary to move on. At one point her left hip was pinned between both walls and a lip in the bottom. It took a lot of grunting, wheezing and bucking but eventually she popped through, pelvis aching at the abuse. On a positive note, her previous injuries seemed to have healed completely and weren’t giving her any trouble, so that was nice.

She forged on until she estimated she’d gone about five meters. That was all she needed. Stuck in the dark, one arm pushed forward and began testing the bottom with an elbow. All she needed was a weak spot. Long as she had that she’d find a way out. The search took a while and it didn’t help she was sweating profusely, dizzily tapping her elbow until it hit something a little hollow. There. Thank the stars she’d been in places like this before. Thank goodness the Federation hadn’t actually changed aesthetics.

Her elbow came down hard, cracking on the floor until it it, too, buckled under pressure. Further prodding had a panel dropping out from right in front of her, a moody blue light suddenly spilling in to her makeshift tunnel. The light itself made her cautious, but not enough to stay where she was. Anxious to get out and take a full breath Paz inched forward, timidly peering down into the hole she’d created.

And for the first time in her life she actively wished she’d never tried breaking in.


	24. Ch 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, as far as first encounters go, it could've been way, way worse :/

The captain had lied. That was all Paz could think about as she anxiously paced through a vault teeming with artifacts and creatures that shouldn’t have been possible, each item and body suspended in either thick fluid or ice behind even thicker panels made of a translucent material she couldn’t identify. Okay, maybe he hadn’t _lied_ , exactly, but he’d definitely omitted some things, and she was supremely pissed with him.

She’d dropped into the vault hardly fifteen minutes ago and was still fuming, wishing she could strangle Coram. The Nav’s former headquarters was not merely some bureaucratic building but rather a museum; this vault specifically. She’d been amazed yet horrified to find hundreds of rows bathed in weird blue lighting that seemed to come from the thousands of tanks. Some held a solitary thing; others were crammed with many. Most she realized she didn’t have any use for as she wound through the rows, but others…fuck, she’d been lied to.

And not just by Coram but by many.

There were creatures in some of these tanks. _Creatures_. Not humans, and not some of the ugly little fauna native to Andromeda’s more hospitable quadrants. No, these creatures _wore_ things. They were _sentient_. Some carried gear she could only imagine were weapons. Others simply stared out the panels, frozen in time.

Andromeda wasn’t an inhabited galaxy. That was the Federation’s official schtick: humanity had called it home for ages, and in that entire time _no one_ had ever found anything like intelligent, sentient life.

Yet here in some basement on an abandoned moon, she’d now seen at least three different species that definitely fit that description. One type she didn’t quite know what she was looking at beyond its blob of jelly-like eyes. There were at least a dozen of them but she couldn’t exactly…process them. They didn’t look human at all but several clearly wore straps of sorts on their bloated bodies. There were no limbs, no indication they could try and escape their prison.

Gross, but not intimidating, not like another type. There were many, many more of those, a good portion of them crammed tight in tanks together. They appeared a bit more human, sort of like what she’d drink up in conspiracy vids about aliens. Dark tan, leathery skin covered taut bodies that clearly contained fine, but large, bones. They lacked eyes, or at least any she could see. On a bulbuous appendage over their long torso sat a huge maw. Some were covered in…masks, she supposed, while others showed off jagged bone and the beginning of a lengthy, gnarled tongue (she wouldn’t consider it _anything_ but a tongue).

She did not like those and avoided looking at their tanks and associated…accessories.

And then there was the last type, the one that was most human like and the one that pissed her off the most for various reasons. In all her angry pacing she’d only seen two examples of the type, both of whom were in separate tanks and not at all near one another. The first seemed entirely isolated: no accessories and only a drape of sorts covering parts of its very humanoid body, which was an understatement because it was eerily similar in too many ways. At first she’d thought it was human, some kind of sick experiment from centuries back, but there were labels on some tanks and this one had a label, too. One she could mostly read.

_Hyleris Native_.

Native.

A native Hylerian.

At first she’d thought it was just one of her ancestors, one of the weird humans who’d crashed on Hyleris and blah, blah, blah, evolution or whatever Coram once spewed, but that wasn’t the case. This thing was different. Too different, even from her.

It had long, slender fingers but only two on each hand, and they didn’t look like a defect. The feet were the same, with two equally long, grippy toes on each. Their arms and legs were just as gangly, joints too large to be considered human in any capacity, and it was impossibly tall, having been crammed into the tank in a hunched position. Big, unseeing eyes stared out, one half lidded in the way a…bird or cat might have. The body itself was lithe and yes, long, but that was where the pseudo-similarities ended.

It did not have ears, none that she could find anyway as she studied it. Its mouth was more of a beak than anything, small nostrils near adjacent to the edge of the beak. What covered its skeleton didn’t look like flesh or scale, and there was certainly no hair. But…there were fringes of that covering rippling down its limbs.

This was _definitely_ not something of human origin, yet it said ‘Hyleris Native’ on the label which led her to a sickening conclusion:

Humans had not been the first thing to occupy Hyleris.

No, they’d…somehow joined whatever this was.

Dumbstruck, she’d stared at the thing for a while. Did they breed with humanity? Would they have? (And as a follow up, would anyone have wanted to?) Was that why she was a little bit different? Paz had a lot of inappropriate questions, none of which could be answered.

But then she’d furiously stomped away, only to find another several rows over with tanks on either side of it labelled in much the same way as before: _Hyleris Native, Hyleris Stock, Hyleris Tech_ , and _Hyleris Travel_. The ‘travel’ one was clearly some sort of capsule. It looked _just_ big enough to hold maybe two of the creatures, and made of a material she again didn’t recognize. The tech tanks contained things that looked like guns. She hoped they weren’t but, well, sentient life did like violence. The stock tank had various trinkets made of more mysterious composites, and the native one…that was the other lone Hyleris native in the entire vault from what she could tell. It was dressed better, dressed actually in early Federation styles, and its fringe was absent. Its digits were crammed in gloves and boots and if it’d had a mask on she might’ve legitimately mistaken it for an abnormally large human.

So.

Fucking hell, aliens existed (or _had)_ and the Nav knew, which meant the Federation did, too. She hadn’t really paid much attention to the others but now she wove through the rows again and again, memorizing what little she could understand from the labels. Beyond the Hylerian the jelly things were dubbed ‘Krakat’ natives, and the big-mouthed ones were ‘Nas’ natives. She’d never heard of Nas but a fuel hub dubbed Krakat was in the same quadrant as Karkinos.

She’d…no one, _ever_ , had claimed there were populations here before humanity, none in Federation Space at any rate and even then there’d never been rumors in dark space about aliens, not even from stupid conspiracy theorists. Paz would’ve heard about that because it sounded ridiculous and she caught on to stupid shit like that. These, though…they didn’t look like they’d been dead when captured. Therefore someone had put them in these tanks and given she was in a Nav building…it didn’t take her that long to figure out what’d happened. Early Nav crews had clearly found native populations. From the look of it, and from the fact she knew nothing about them, native populations had lost those encounters.

Or fled, but that was an entirely different issue she didn’t want to get into. She hadn’t even thought about looking for the stick yet, wasting precious time on this bullshit. She didn’t know why she was so surprised, or cared. None of this shit mattered to her. It was just so…strange. Like, why did the Nav have this stuff? There were plenty more weird things in the other tanks that had nothing to do with aliens—she’d just skipped them in her shock. Who benefitted from holding onto the vault? And why bother hiding aliens? The Federation was huge. It was weirder, in her opinion, to pretend they were alone out here than acknowledge other people.

Maybe there’d been issues. Maybe everyone had been hostile. That was believable. But…if the intent was to wipe certain groups out, why keep anything? Why let anyone ever leave colonies if there was a chance of bumping into actual aliens (unlikely as far as she knew) or their relics (more likely)? Wait—how many of those cups she’d found for Val were actually…were they even cups?

This was a lot to take in. Paz probably spent a good hour just walking around and staring, open mouthed and wide eyed at everything she came across. She was so lost in her own thoughts she almost missed the artifact in a small tank somewhere near the back, _far_ from the rest of its Hylerian counterparts. It wasn’t even labelled Hylerian, just _Pre-Mig_ which meant nothing to her, laying with a few other rods of stone that looked, but did not feel, similar.

She stopped dead in front of the tank, gaze drawn to the artifact crammed in one corner, thoughts about aliens on pause. Without a doubt that was the real deal. It was pitch black and crystalline, radiating that same feeling as the last one and enticing her to take it. Paz stared at it longer, frozen. She hadn’t touched the tanks, not even when she’d tumbled from the ceiling and crashed to the floor, but she was certain they were solid. Damnit, just another barrier to take down. This one, however, would be worth wrecking shit over. Whatever the liquid inside was didn’t matter.

She might’ve begun drooling before realizing she needed to actually do something. Swallowing, Paz set off in search of something to break the tank or open it up. The vault was enormous and some things did appear unsecured outside of the rows so she fervently hunted around. Nothing but some spare tools lay about. She pocketed a few regardless.

Far from the door there did happen to be a plethora of monitors and panels built into the wall. Paz slowed as she passed, mind still dizzily spinning. She didn’t feel all that great, hadn’t since she’d taken off her suit, but it was bearable. Even if she was in good shape she still wouldn’t have been able to operate anything. It was all in that foreign language. She could barely—

But she’d read most of the labels just fine, hadn’t she? Maybe…maybe it was more similar to the common tongue than she thought. If Sam were here he’d go ahead and check it out so she shrugged, then shuffled up in front of the display. Shaky fingers splayed to ghost over one of the panels.

Man, she should’ve tried this in the first place. Both the display and the vault itself lit up in a quick succession of waking screens and bright warm light from high overhead. Half blinded, Paz shielded her eyes with one arm while squinting at the giant display. All sorts of menus opened up, way too much information to handle at once, yet surprisingly, she could read them. That was…odd.

A slight breeze had filled the vault, too, like her touching the display kickstarted everything. Better adjusted, she lowered her arm and searched the screens and panels for something useful. Systems health, corridor data, schedules…boring shit. Where was a quick button to open the tanks? One display had a search mark (good old Nav never changing a thing); she accessed that, studying the character panel beneath it. It’d looked so foreign seconds ago, yet now it was like it’d rearranged itself to accommodate…her.

Fuck it, if it was doing that she might as well be specific. She pecked out ‘open up Pre-Mig container’ and watched while the screens flitted to another menu. Suddenly each display had become part of a massive map of the vault, the tank she wanted marked with its label and highlighted. Reaching up on her toes, Paz gently tapped it. It couldn’t be that easy, could it?

It was. A heavy hiss panted from across the room, the floor softly quivering like something was moving. Ten seconds went by, then the hissing and movement stopped. Still doubting her luck, Paz hustled over to the tank, all kinds of thoughts coming to her now. If it _was_ that easy then think of what else she could open. She’d seen a really nasty looking rifle somewhere in here and she kind of wanted it. Maybe a new suit, too? No, that’d be disgusting. Well, she’d see.

She shrieked in victory soon as she came upon the Pre-Mig tank. Its panels were gone, as was the liquid, leaving her with a slightly glistening pile of rocks. If it didn’t corrode rock it probably wouldn’t kill her. Paz couldn’t help grabbing the black pillar, hand wrapping around it as if it belonged there.

The instant her skin touched it that connection snapped into place just like before. Paz went rigid, eyelids lowering as some kind of presence whipped through her veins, blood suddenly pumping much slower. Everything slowed. Her bones went taut, and for a moment she honestly thought she heard something inhaling deeply, as if it hadn’t breathed in eons. Even more terrifying, it then exhaled and a rumble of real touch traveled from her fingers all the way to her chest, up her neck and into her skull. Invisible claws scraped across her consciousness, holding her as she was.

_One more_.

She heard that in her brain, nowhere else. Unable to move, Paz wanted to shudder and let go but her palm might as well have been welded to the pillar. She couldn’t let go. Couldn’t do anything.

The presence’s hold loosened the instant she thought she might die, breathing new life into her and allowing her to stumble backwards. The pillar was still in her hand but it wasn’t as nerve-wracking. Forcibly brushing it off, Paz pocketed the artifact before it could do anything else. She had it, and now it thudded against her thigh by the tools she’d picked up.

Well, now she knew it worked. She quickly headed back to the display, mind focused back on the aliens because that was somehow better than processing the fact that something may have just possessed her. Was that how possession worked? She’d have to look it up.

Right now it was time to open the Hylerian tanks. Anything to stop shivering over that unnatural tough. She wasn’t thinking clearly; she simply wanted to open them up. Check out their gear and maybe…maybe get a better look at real Hylerians. Oh, Coram was going to be so jealous. That made her feel slightly better.

Back at the displays she searched the map for tanks with Hylerian labels. All were touched. A moment later a symphony of hissing and grumbling filled the vault. It made Paz’s sweaty toes curl. She was nervous, hoping this wasn’t a mistake. She usually made bad decisions on her own but this one seemed so natural, and somehow she now felt so much better, like her body had finally grown used to the environment. Once the hissing was over she scurried back down to the closest row where the clothed Hylerian and its accessories sat.

She was about to see a real alien. Holy Fuck. Tedious as this mission was it’d been absolutely worth it. The others she didn’t even consider, but Hylerians? Well, she _was_ sort of one, so…might as well check them out.

Paz wasn’t disappointed in what she found. Various tanks had lowered to reveal their treasures: definitely weapons, packs, tools, gear…all sorts of goodies. The tank containing the actual Hylerian had lowered as well, leaving the creature stuck on its side, still frozen solid. She exhaled in relief—she hadn’t wanted to actually meet it, just stare at it.

Without hesitation she gently looked it over, studying the frozen specimen up close and personal. It didn’t smell—well, didn’t smell _worse_ than what she’d grown accustomed to. The skin she could see seemed a whole lot smoother than the other one. Large pores covered the flesh which was…weird, and when she crept around the tank’s base to get a better look at its head she could confirm there were no ears. No ear holes, no shells…nothing. Okay, then.

She returned to the other tanks, gingerly poking around in search of anything useful. The trinkets Paz found useless, but some things appeared like…charms, or cup-like containers, and a few had foreign symbols on them that did not change to suit her untrained eyes. Some of the smaller, flatter things ended up in a pocket while she consciously ignored the cup objects, then moved on to the weapons.

They had to be weapons; she couldn’t think of other uses for what was clearly some sort of machinery likely designed to fit into the crook of the Hylerian’s arm. The material was unfamiliar; it gleamed like polished, blueish bone even after the liquid’s residue had dried off. When she hefted a smaller one in both hands she found it fit comfortably in _her_ grip, though any grooves or triggers were definitely meant for someone with two fingers and not five. Touching the triggers wasn’t considered.

Next came the other gear. There were literally dozens of bags in the tank and they all looked suitable for anything with shoulders. Being someone with shoulders, Paz had the bright idea to open one up and dump its damp contents out, briefly looking them over before shoving her important things inside instead. Not the artifact though. _That_ stayed at her thigh.

Now that she had a bag she began scavenging more seriously, taking anything that looked either lethal or valuable—and light. A rather normal looking knife she sheathed with the artifact, and one of the rifle looking things she set aside for when it was time to go.

In all honesty she should’ve already left. Curiosity, however, was getting the best of her. She’d really like to check out the capsule because it looked badass when she surveyed it, all sleek, gleaming metal and dangerously sharp curves, but she only know how to operate two types of rigs and that was absolutely nowhere near either one of those.

The other Hylerian hadn’t come with accessories but once she’d looted the other tanks she headed over to check it out as well. Passing down a row filled with Nas natives she was once again glad those weren’t coming out. They were terrifying and she really didn’t like those tongue things.

Their ugly bodies immediately left her thoughts after she reached the other Hylerian tank. Paz’s blood drained from her face as she timidly hid herself behind another tank, whatever good feelings she’d just had replaced with crushing fear. The other Hylerian was bowled over, its entire body expanding and retracting as it took…breaths. They weren’t good breaths, but it was managing, a slight wheezing emitting from its beak. Its eyes were closed, too, as if simply existing were laborious. All things considered it probably was—the thing had been trapped in there for who knew how long. How it’d even survived she didn’t know.

Beak clicking in some kind of pattern, it slowly tilted its head back and opened one eye, a dazed blue iris sweeping across the neighboring row. Paz remained still, hoping it wouldn’t notice her but it definitely did, pausing its survey and tilting its head a bit more. As if in slow motion, one quaking limb lifted from the tank’s floor, a single digit pointing in her direction. It then curled, beckoning for her. Again Paz didn’t budge, mind having ground to a halt. Did it want her? Why? She couldn’t help it or anything. Beyond that, it wasn’t human.

She was _not_ qualified for first contact.

The finger crooked again, beak clicking more softly. It wouldn’t hurt her, would it? It hadn’t left the tank. Things that usually wanted her dead would’ve attempted to get some advantage by now but it…it just sat there in a sad, hunched bundle of gangly limbs. The drape had fallen off, too, exposing it completely. Paz saw no recognizable genitals but also nothing it could wield, either.

Somewhere, deep down in her soul, she was compelled to go to it.

Very slowly, very timidly, she crept out from behind her tank and shuffled toward the Hylerian. Both hands unconsciously rose, palms exposed. She tried averting her gaze, too, hoping she didn’t appear like a threat. And, maybe she imagined it, but she swore its weak gaze softened as she knelt on the floor before the tank. She didn’t know why she was being so subservient. It just felt…natural.

The beak clicked and it lowered its own head, a gentle chirp rumbling out of it next. Paz tried not to look too surprised but she definitely was. For some reason she’d assumed they couldn’t make noise.

And, somehow, that compelled her to point at her chest and stupidly blurt, “Hyleris.”

Fuck, but it possessed no ears. Was that why she’d thought it couldn’t make noise? This was becoming confusing. Tch, she was such an idiot thinking it could—

“Hyleris,” it repeated, beak clicking strangely in between syllables. It’d sounded so familiar, like something she’d heard before and recently, and the tone wasn’t unpleasant. Paz still blinked and glanced up, staring at the creature in bewilderment. So…it could hear her?

Oh, man. She hadn’t been prepared for this.

“Hyleris Terran,” it went on, pupils dilating as it continued watching her. Unsure what else to do Paz swallowed and nodded. Hopefully it spoke the common tongue. If not, this conversation was about to become very short.

“Um…ye. Terra. Sure. But not—not Nav. I’m not Nav, or Federation.” She broke its intense gaze as she looked around the vault with a cringe. “This wasn’t—I’m sorry about this.”

To her eternal relief it understood just fine. That slight beak clacked in some kind of…laughter, almost, and it dropped its outstretched hand to bring it closer to her.

“I see,” it murmured in its odd way, tone somehow smoothing over Paz’s alarm. “What are you called, Terran?”

“Topaz,” she replied in a whisper, feeling like she was giving it a piece of her. Her head bowed low, lower. Something was growing in her chest, an unease. “I’m…sorry.”

“What do you apologize for, Topaz?” it wondered, somehow amused even as it also lowered to one elbow. She didn’t want to explain but it all came tumbling out anyway, as if she couldn’t not try and give it something.

“I just…you’ve been in here for so long. And I—I don’t know what happened but I don’t think it worked out for Hyleris. I’ve never…I didn’t even know you existed.”

It wasn’t a good explanation but the creature took it in stride. Paz shuddered. She felt guilty all the sudden for not knowing more. Its hand managed stretching closer, both fingers splaying.

“Topaz,” it murmured again, her name rich in its accent. “It is honorable to have met another of Hyleris. If you did not know of us I conclude Nav Terran succeeded. I am sorry, too.”

“I don’t know what happened,” she repeated in a whisper, wanting to cry, which was stupid.

“I can show you,” it calmly replied, though it sounded tired. Those two fingers tepidly wiggled. “Would you allow it?”

Without thinking Paz reached up and set her palm against the creature’s. It was kind of awkward, and an ethereal shudder coursed through her but she held on and curled her fingers around one of the cold digits, reminding herself to be brave. It wasn’t human, sure, but it was being supremely nice. She’d take whatever information it offered, if only because it’d eternally piss Coram off that _she_ had been chosen for this (hopefully) honor.

At her touch the Hylerian sighed, lowering completely to the tank’s soft looking floor. Its head lolled back and it shut both eyes, appearing to have relaxed.

“Thank you,” it remarked, hand squeezing hers. At first she didn’t know what for but a moment later something hit her in the head like a sack of tech parts, cleaving open her skull and sending a jet of raw emotion and memories crashing into her. Paz wanted to scream, tried to, and she wanted to back out but just as she’d been trapped with the artifact now she was forced to endure…everything.

The vault disappeared, as did the Hylerian in front of her. A void encapsulated her tight, dragging her down and down and down, sounds and odd flashes of images distorting around her. She wanted to shut her eyes though it didn’t help; she was still being yanked into something she couldn’t control. Look, if she’d known she was going to get sucked into some kind of black hole by agreeing to learn about the Hylerian she probably wouldn’t have done it. This seemed wrong, and stupid, and she should’ve left shit alone.

But she hadn’t, because she was the kind of person who made bad choices, so now she was hurtling into an infinite void that definitely stung every bit of her. The force of an endless, complicated history smothered her. It was too much, too painful. She couldn’t handle it.

And then she slammed into the bottom.


	25. Ch 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hylerian mythos in a nutshell.

A long, long time ago, _it_ didn’t even know how long, Hyleris had been formed out of the basic materials that might eventually create life. That life never developed but a wandering entity came along and took advantage of the situation, burrowing into Hyleris’s rich land and calling it home. The entity fed on others and would occasionally leave Hyleris to hunt, sometimes bringing back other lifeforms with it. Through countless rotations around a steady blue giant, the entity brought more and more life to Hyleris, developing a biodiversity that thrived in prime conditions.

Species grew then dissipated; certain forms evolved and others vanished. Eventually even _its_ ancestors set to the stars, leaving behind only a few to guard the sleeping entity. When they returned those left behind were gone, replaced by forms whose vessel had teen trapped in Hyleris’s orbit. Human, they called themselves— _its_ ancestors called them Terran. The Terran were not kind, though they forever denied having encountered the ones who’d stayed behind.

Wars were waged, countless slaughtered until very few Terran survived. Those who did were incorporated into Hylerian life, their genetics spliced and improved in order to accommodate an environment not suitable for their fragile bodies. They were subservient, though with time became close to equals. _Its_ ancestors shielded them from the stars and did not allow them stellar travel, tales of other Terran considered warnings of how future meetings would end. Hylerian Terran populations grew and grew, soon overshadowing _its_ ancestors once more.

Certain the Terran would one day desire movement as they’d once had, _its_ ancestors began to hunt for suitable homes across the stars. Once again they left a few with the Terran and set out across Andromeda.

They encountered other Terrans this time, ones who were much more hostile and destructive than the ones who’d been stranded—Nav, they called themselves. These Nav Terran had already formed a vast network of homes, having annihilated many of the species who’d once populated the galaxy. Some, like the Nas, fought, while others smartly fled past the edge of known space. _Its_ ancestors tried to flee but these Terran gave chase, far and wide. For this reason _its_ ancestors could not return home, as they knew what would occur—even the Hylerian born Terran would not escape slaughter, not with their mutations.

So they fought if necessary, escaping when they could and attempting to migrate as other species had past the edge. Ships and populations dwindled. Defeat grew imminent, a grim future forming. In desperation a few were given keys to return home and wake the original entity if it still resided within Hyleris. The entity, if nothing else, might protect the home so many had come to thrive on.

One key was lost, rendering this impossible almost immediately. Another was handed over as loot in surrender to the Nav Terran, though they were never told of their use. _It_ was captured soon after, watched helplessly as the last of _its_ kind were systematically eradicated. The Nav Terran did not want to share Andromeda.

When _it_ woke to find a Hyleris Terran apologizing for things she did not understand, _it_ knew the Nav Terran had succeeded.

No matter how long it’d been, _it_ knew: a new era had been ushered in, and it was ruled by those who did not understand how their homes had come to be.


	26. Ch 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First contact part 2. Paz is a little frazzled at this point as I think anyone would be meeting new species and such. Anyway, to freedom!

The void dropped her back in her body without any consideration. She didn’t know she’d moved until she jolted out of some kind of stupor, images of Hyleris’s painful history still flashing through her bruised head. The Hylerian lay behind her. Cradled against her, their hand still clenched in hers. It was cold and…stiff, unfortunately. Scrambling to rise to her rump, Paz twisted to look it over. Its body didn’t move with breath, and its eyes had rolled back, beak parted gently. Despite it having been cold before she knew the freezing hand she still held was a different kind of cold. It was dead.

Dead.

How she had enough moisture left to cry she didn’t know but there Paz was, hunched over the creature and fucking crying like she’d just lost a friend. She’d seen its doomed mission, seen the torture and fear. It’d given her a crash course in exactly how someone like her had come into existence, and it’d wanted to spare people like her. It’d wanted to give her people, people it’d adopted as its own, a chance to grow and thrive and…well, that hadn’t exactly worked out.

They’d been left alone on Hyleris so long they’d forgotten their origins. They’d been shielded from chaos only to be subjected to it thousands of years later. Coram’s story didn’t add up, and neither did the official story of Hyleris from the Nav. Both had lied, and she suspected they had their reasons, but now she knew the truth. It wouldn’t save them, wouldn’t make anything better, but it was something and she’d guard the knowledge with her life.

Now, though, she reached around the Hylerian and hugged its stiff body tight, tears gradually slowing.

“I’m sorry,” she told it once more, voice hoarse. “I’m so sorry, I can’t…I would’ve tried to help if I could.”

Help was futile in this age. The Nav had clearly won, establishing the Federation and running Andromeda like it’d created it. There was someone who’d spent a lot of his time working on vengeance, however, and she had to believe this Hylerian might’ve at least appreciated that.

Yet that vengeance, she now understood, came from more than Hylerians being used as slaves. Coram knew a lot more than he let on. She just had a feeling, and she had an even more sneaking suspicion the artifacts she’d been tasked with finding…might be the keys in the Hylerian’s tale.

But that was more than she could process. Entities and whatnot? What the fuck did that even mean? She buried that part of the story for now, mostly because it really wouldn’t _do_ anything, at least not until she was in front of Coram and could punch him. Maybe break an artifact right in front of him, see if her assumptions about them were correct.

Again though, none of this mattered to Paz because she’d be gone soon. Sure, she was moved; her heart _ached_. She wanted to lay here longer and just…think. That’d do no good and she knew it. She’d never set out to find aliens, never intended to wake one up and hear about ancient sorrow. All she’d wanted was the stick and she’d been such a damn idiot about it, recklessly clawing her way in here to obtain it that she’d just assumed nothing else would catch her interest.

If Coram had known about the shit in here, if he’d had _any_ idea, then it was no wonder he’d wanted her to find it. It was just one more way to get in her head, to show her he was in the right, that Hylerians deserved some kind of champion. And of course that asshole would think something like this would change her mind. What a dick. His people had been slaughtered and enslaved. He was no better pulling his freedom fighting, frigate-sinking bullshit.

But…she did understand his ways a little more. Just a little. It still didn’t give him license to run around murdering people.

She needed to return. She had a lot of questions and she’d likely spent a _lot_ of time in here. Hopefully they hadn’t left her. If they had…

She wouldn’t think about that down here.

Grabbing the drape, Paz carefully settled it over the Hylerian after one last look. How long it’d rest here was anyone’s guess. The sheet would have to do. Adjusting her pack, she then set off for the other Hylerian tanks to pick up the rest of her haul.

On the way her thoughts dizzily looped regarding the Hylerian and its story. Parts of it sent a pang of panic through her while other parts puzzled her. The Nav’s own history was boring and long and something she didn’t want to care about. Per Coram’s story they’d come to Andromeda and set up the Federation after this Great Migration thing occurred. That was all she’d ever needed or wanted to know. Fuck, piecing all of it together now was going to require a ton of reading and digging, and she didn’t have the time or energy to do that. And, as she reminded herself _again_ , this didn’t matter to her. She was going back to Osiris as soon as possible. That was it. Tragic doomed civilization or not, she still had her own business to tackle. Maybe someone else could tackle it, but not Coram because he was a lying dick and—

Paz nearly stumbled to her knees as she rounded to the other Hylerian tanks. Her stomach dropped to her bowels at any rate. The Hyleris Native tank was empty.

And the rifle she’d set aside for herself was gone.

Shit.

She instantly whipped in a circle, eyes darting every which way but finding nothing and no one. Sweat poured down her back regardless. Fuck. What were the chances she’d meet _two_ nice Hylerians? It was possible, right? Sure, it likely had the gun but to be perfectly fair she would’ve picked it up, too, if she’d just woken from an eons-long nap.

Thinking quick, she leapt to the rest of the weapons and pulled out a slightly larger rifle, hauling it in her arms. Would it be stupid to call attention to herself? Most likely. But she didn’t want to startle it, and she certainly didn’t want to kill it. Yet it might find her a threat so she didn’t want to be empty-handed. What if it wasn’t like the other one? What if it couldn’t understand her, or worse, didn’t care? Was it looking for the other one? Had it already been by while she’d been out? How long had she been out in the first place, or even down here?

She stupidly cleared her throat and hollered, “Are you still here? Can we talk? I…I’m not part of the Nav.”

Something snapped from several rows away, quick thuds hitting the floor. Paz turned, bracing herself. Though she held the rifle she kept it lowered, trying to show she wouldn’t hurt them, not if she didn’t have to. She could do this. She’d already essentially spooned with one so she could totally deal with another.

That other one swooped between tanks a dozen meters in front of her, taut body rippling with power as it rose to full height and stared in her direction. Giants. These creatures were giants, all of them. And this one definitely had the rifle, its muzzle currently trained on her. Feeling a little frozen once more, Paz stared back, eyes meeting their milky jade irises for far too long. It’s still damp clothing barely moved as it lowered the gun. Shoulders lowering, it appeared to relax just a bit. The beak clicked, but not like the other’s. This one seemed more contemptuous.

“Topaz?” they rumbled, shrewdly eyeing her. She started quivering. The strange alien knew her name. That wasn’t _at all_ horrifying.

“My…companion,” they added, as if they knew she needed a better explanation. She broke the stare, focus dropping to the floor.

“I’m sorry.” _For everything_. The creature apparently understood, rifle hooking to its belted side like it usually sat there. Paz propped hers on the ground, relieved she hadn’t been tackled and killed on contact. This was good. Great, actually. And this one seemed quite alive and not tired or sick. It moved that way, anyway.

“The Nav’s everywhere,” she shakily informed them, as if it’d help. She vaguely nodded at the ceiling. “Up there. I’ve never—it’s just humans. Sorry.”

They visibly lowered their guard. “You were not aware.” Their own gaze swept the row and beyond, barely moving. “You are alone, but not Nav. You reside here?”

At this point she may as well. Swallowing, Paz shook her head. “No. Actually, I need to go. This…the Nav owned it at some point, but they abandoned it. I was looking for something here.”

Their beak clacked hard. “You found it.”

She had, but she didn’t want to discuss that or why they’d guessed she had. “Um…ye.”

The Hylerian nodded back. They definitely knew human customs. “And you found another?”

How did it know? When she balked they carefully stepped closer, boots soft on the flooring. Everything about the Hylerian was so smooth, so deliberate and tense. “Then this mausoleum is no longer necessary. Are you in need of transportation?”

Transportation? Confused, Paz brought wary eyes back to the creature. “I…I mean, ye, but…no one else is left. Also, I’m having a little trouble with the door and a few other issues, so…not sure how we could even get out.” Not with this thing in tow. Sure, she could probably shove herself back through the ceiling crawlspace, but it was going to take some work.

She could’ve sworn they smirked, one hand stroking the rifle at their side. “I may have been captured, Topaz, but I am not weak and my firepower is significant.”

They’d still be captured again. Not really getting the mysterious vibe from this one as she’d received from the other, Paz cocked a skeptical eyebrow. “You know what containment fields are? Can your firepower punch through one?”

“I would not worry of those traps.”

“Right.” She could see where Hylerians had inherited their arrogance. “So, we’re also…look, I’m not gonna get into specifics but we’re underneath a dead, flooded colony. You’ve seen colonies before, ye?”

“I’ve fought in many,” they assured with a generous click, as if that were the most natural thing to say. “These are not concerns. I am leaving, Topaz. Accompany me to the surface. If, as you say, Nav are everywhere, then I would like to greet them.”

“You’ll die.” The words were out before she could stop herself. The Hylerian didn’t seem phased.

“Then it will have been earned.”

“Or,” Paz nervously stammered, mind churning. “Or, we leave—however you want to do it, fine—and go find my friends. They’re also like me.”

They swaggered a few steps closer, studying the tanks more thoughtfully. “You are generous in your preservation, Topaz. I commend you. I will deliver you to your friends, and then I will take my leave. Allow me this indulgence.”

Well, when they put it that way… Eyes rolling, Paz agreed. “If that’s what you want. But seriously, how do you plan on getting out?”

“I would like to impress you,” they stated, striding around her to the capsule, large body towering over her momentarily. “You will see. First, these prisons must be opened. Show me how you freed us.”

Paz shuddered. “Uh, sure. But not if I’m in here. What do you plan on doing?”

“Relieving the Nav of their trophies,” they bitterly replied, beak clicking sharply. Somehow, Paz had a feeling this one and Coram thought a _lot_ alike. Strangely, she also approved of the idea.

Already she dipped between tanks, heading for the giant display. The Hylerian followed and she explained what she’d done, demonstrating tapping on some labeled tanks that had nothing to do with Nas or Krakat. Hissing filled the vault once again and she enjoyed watching the Hylerian curiously check out each new tank. They seemed just as surprised as her over some things, but in the end they only opened four more. After that the Hylerian knew their role and brought her back to the capsule. She stood a few steps back from the extra-large tank, warily eyeing the foreign craft. It did not look capable of flight, let alone standing upright.

“You’re sure it’ll fly?” she asked, other doubtful questions building in her throat. The Hylerian had been very vague about this part.

Joints cracking as they climbed atop the tank’s floor, the creature didn’t bother with a response. Instead they stooped over one side of the round capsule, a panel waking as they set a palm over the surface. Seconds later a slice of impermeable metal slid back to reveal a small cockpit shimmering with waking tech. Eyeing it from the ground, Paz couldn’t help but smile in admiration. She’d seen a lot of cockpits before, from ones that’d barely functioned to the nicest credits could buy, but this one was the most aesthetically pleasing. No stupid paneled walls or displays with cords spilling down, no garish pieces of equipment. Just…two seats carefully woven in to the interior. That was literally it.

“Nav are aware this is our ship,” they explained, stepping aside and beckoning her up. “But they cannot fly it, because they are not us. This will die with us, as it should, but I would like for you to see the greatness you come from.”

“My friends would _love_ you,” Paz remarked in a grumble, stiffly hopping up. The artifact thumped against her thigh. “You really should meet them.”

They chirped, thin outer eyelids lowering. “Tell me of them and I may decide to. Occupy as you wish. I will return once the containers are opened.”

That’d sounded great right up until now when Paz had a terrible vision of being trapped in there and the tank enclosing itself once more. Nah. She’d wait outside until the Hylerian returned. They clearly needed to do this on their own, but she wasn’t getting in some advanced ship she probably couldn’t even figure out how to work the door.

“Cool,” she lightly breathed, removing her pack from one shoulder. “Sounds good.”

And she fiddled with the pack once they trotted off. Did she feel guilty that she hadn’t wanted to do it, freeing all the other species for just a few moments? Not really. Before learning the Hylerian thought they could get out she’d sort of planned on blasting through the vault door (if she could get the gun to work), then leave the same way she’d come in. She would’ve picked up her suit on the way.

Should she go get it? Part of her said yes, but the rest…

She _had_ the artifact. If she didn’t just stumble into Coram and Desh outside she had a feeling they’d find _her_. Besides, she had to find them. How else was she going to get back to Osiris? Ask the Nav to pretty please call Val? You know, after she’d just broken in and likely trashed their vault with the help of an alien who definitely didn’t like them? That’d _totally_ go over well.

But what if they weren’t around? How long would the Hylerian let her stay on board before deciding to start its suicide mission? Her suit’s comm might not work, but…she _knew_ Coram’s style at this point. He wouldn’t have just sent her out without some way to track her, one way or another. Now, they probably hadn’t thought she’d be stupid enough to take off her suit, but even if the comm was broken maybe other tech in the suit could still be tracked. If it still worked. Her helmet’s light had still been on last she saw.

She needed the suit, just in case.

Dozens and dozens of tanks began hissing open in the nearby vicinity. Worried about wasting more time Paz leapt from the capsule tank with her gun and bolted in the direction of the vault’s door, breath coming on quick. She passed a tank holding a Krakat native, sides slowly thawing and slipping down to reveal the gelatinous creature. There was no way she could be out here if anything thawed long enough to somehow still be alive.

“I’ll be right back!” she yelled, cracking voice muffled among the hissing. “I have to get something real quick!”

If the Hylerian responded she didn’t hear, weaving through rows until the secured door came into view. Rifle primed in her arms she brought it up and slowed, aiming for the right side. She didn’t know how destructive it’d be but she hoped it was nasty. Finding the trigger, she spread her feet and awkwardly pulled.

It worked. Perhaps a little _too_ well, Paz decided as she was knocked back and a blast of something corrosive hit, then quickly ate its way through a portion of the door and hall beyond. She hadn’t expected that from such old tech. Dazed, and more than a little bruised from hitting the base of a tank, she gave the ammo some time to cool before struggling to her feet. A moment later the Hylerian was at her side, expertly pulling her steady to their hip. Their skin was still cool, she noted, but much warmer than the other’s.

They eyed the hole she’d created, too, beak shut tight. Offering an apologetic flash of teeth, Paz hobbled forward. They were both Hylerian, sure, but she sort of hadn’t meant to look like an idiot so soon.

“Figured I’d need my suit,” she rambled, inspecting the metal’s ragged edges. “Didn’t think it’d ah, _eat_ metal.”

The beak relaxed, her companion hunching through the hole with her. “It was surprising to see you without any protection.”

They held both rifles while she grabbed her suit and hastily stuffed herself in. The Hylerian then reached up into the cavity she’d crawled through to retrieve her helmet. Paz hooked that at her side with a quick ‘thank you’, took back her new favorite weapon, and then they were back in the vault. The Hylerian took painfully slow strides to keep pace with her running. She let them, curious about a lot of their reasonings but letting them stay unanswered. Why’d they want to definitely die by Nav hands? Why’d they even want to help her leave? If she’d just woken up she would’ve wanted to explore and see what’d changed.

Yet, as they careened past drained tanks and all sorts of thawing things, she realized very little had changed. The Nav still existed. Hylerians were still vastly outnumbered even if they were of the human sort. Perhaps they didn’t find anything else appealing. Even if she successfully convinced it to meet Coram and Desh, they’d just bombard the thing with questions. She didn’t want to subject them to such torture.

Just ahead of her the Hylerian’s back went rigid. She’d ask what was up but knew what they sensed half a second later. As they passed a Krakat native she saw the thawed creature…quivering. Oh, no. No, no, no. she wasn’t into meeting more aliens—she’d already pushed her luck with these two, thank you very much.

Without warning the Hylerian reached back and scooped her up like she was nothing. Between the rifles and herself she was sure they struggled but it certainly didn’t feel like it, not when they zoomed away and down plenty of rows in a flash. Damn, they were strong.

They didn’t slow down until they’d leapt onto the capsule’s platform, dropping her in front of its open door with much more care than she thought possible.

“Anything else?” they asked before herding her in. As nice as the Hylerian appeared they clearly wanted inside, head alertly tilting every which way as cackles and hacks echoed through the vault. Paz would’ve directly asked if they had anything else valuable but an eery howl cracked through the air, something she definitely never wanted to hear again. She shoved herself inside the capsule’s waiting door, tumbling into the deepest seat. The Hylerian followed at her heels, door sliding shut right behind and enveloping them in an utterly silent, soothingly lit, cocoon.

With shaking fingers Paz felt around for a belt of some kind. There were none. Okay, then. The creature next to her smoothly sat back, looked around and set both on those powerful, long thighs. She found herself staring, both at their ease of motion and the very body they inhabited. Weirdness aside, she found she…appreciated what she saw. Busy as they were drawing a lit display to their lap, the Hylerian noticed. They chirped lightly.

“Look as you’d like, Topaz. I appreciate the attention.”

Face growing hot, Paz looked away and focused on the dash they’d pulled up. It wasn’t a real, physical thing, but the Hylerian worked at it like it was, fingers expertly punching across symbols. These, too, did not change for her. Old Nav tech had. Interesting.

She settled back, heart beginning to pound in anticipation. Should she put on her helmet? She hadn’t asked if the environment was safe for them both. The helmet sat atop her thighs just in case.

“Should I…?”

“If you would like,” the Hylerian answered without judgment, distracted with the dash. While she struggled to fit it over her head they asked, “How far are we aiming to go?”

From here to Alpha’s surface? Paz tried to come up with a good response. Now was not the time to admit she hadn’t noticed. “Kilometer? Kilometer and a half?”

Pausing, they slid their gaze to her, beak clicking. “Two kilometers to be safe. Are you ready, Topaz?”

They really liked her name, she’d noticed. Wishing she had something to hold onto, Paz shoved both hands under her thighs and nodded. “Ye. Oh—one last thing.”

They stared expectantly, wide eyes curious. “Of course.”

She took a shuddering breath. Why was she so anxious? It was better to know than not, right? “You wouldn’t happen to have a name, would you?”

Something tapped on the side of the capsule, though the Hylerian paid little attention. Their gaze snapped back to the dash, punching in a few more commands.

“Guinto,” they finally replied, sending the dash away and pulling up a new one. “We did not know individual names until your ancestors came to us. It changed everything, Topaz.”

Sure. She bet it did. Stomach seizing in warning, Paz hoped this would work. If not, there were some aliens outside who probably wanted to chat, too, and not in a good way. Fuck, could this thing really punch through a containment field, water, and the colony itself? She highly doubted it. Maybe she should’ve left the same way she came. Maybe the suit would’ve worked for exiting, too. Who knew? She hadn’t tried. Was it getting hot in here?

Without looking Guinto understood her nerves. One hand dropped to her closest knee. It gently squeezed the joint, the most human thing she’d felt in ages.

“Breathe, Topaz. This will be exciting.”

Said the strange creature who’d coaxed her into their strange ship and was about to do something strange to get them out of here. Sure. She kept her eyes open, if only because she’d rather watch her potential doom than not. Guinto squeezed her knee again, chirping out what was clearly an amused sound.

She almost wished to back out but there was no time. The capsule jerked, a metallic whine erupting around them. It rattled the entire ship, even down to Paz’s bones. She swore then, grabbing Guinto’s wrist because at least it was something to hold. The Hylerian didn’t mind, head lolling back in the seat with a deep sigh.

“To freedom.”

To _what_?

They winked out of existence.


	27. Ch 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Gladiator remix by Zayde Wolf is essentially the theme for the whole chapter* Guinto has a blast showing off what a Hylerian ship can do and Paz's stomach is in her throat essentially the whole time. This is not the treasure-hunting-adventure she agreed to!

There wasn’t another way to explain it. One second Paz was clenching her teeth trying to keep the last of her bile inside and the next a black void so deep and intense swallowed them whole. Guinto, the capsule, everything disappeared. The blackness invaded every single pore and orifice as if she wore no suit, forcing her to become the void.

And then the void shot her out and they were back, everything have returned to its proper place. The only difference was Paz was now eyeing a visible dash, Centurion Alpha’s black coffin a hundred meters below and the rest of the desolate, purplish moon stretching out before them. On the horizon the planet it orbited was currently submerged in a generous shadow. Somehow, they’d zapped from the depths of Alpha all the way to its thin atmosphere, the capsule steadily keeping its position.

Well. She hadn’t been expecting that.

It’d be nice, and a little _insane_ , if the view wasn’t ruined by a dozen Nav cruisers soaring in nearby proximity, lasers lighting up the sky as they trailed a solitary rig that looked awfully familiar. Torn between surprise and relief, Paz’s heart swelled at the sight. The Lakai’s disguised rig was making some horrific maneuvers but keeping out of range for the most part, desperately evading the Nav’s imposing fleet.

Goddamn, they’d stayed. Letting go of Guinto’s wrist she pointed at the ship, lips parted in wonder. “That’s…”

“I would be honored to help your friends,” Guinto clicked, lit dash reappearing in reach. More displays popped up around the Hylerian. Guinto somehow gripped several, big eyes scanning the horizon as if deciding where to start. “Tell me of them.”

They had to be joking. No sooner had she begun when their capsule streaked across the sky, wings unfolding and several tiered rows of tech rising from the flaps. She curled in her seat, cursing under her breath. A quick glance at Guinto confirmed they were about to go ham on the Nav, that same lethal look glazing over the Hylerian’s eyes as she got when she was about to accomplish the impossible.

Sure enough, the cabin filled with a pleasant buzz while twin jets of white hot heat punched from the capsule’s guns. She watched, stuck in nauseating awe while two streaks surged over Alpha and slammed into the nearest Nav ship. One second went by, two, then the entire thing exploded in a spectacular ball of fire and great plumes of debris.

That was horrifying. Absolutely horrifying.

Jaw hanging, blood turning to ice, Paz couldn’t even find her voice. Thousands of people could’ve been on that ship. Thousands. And they’d destroyed it. Beside her, Guinto chirped approvingly.

“Their ships are weaker. This will be quick, Topaz.”

Somehow that wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Sinking in her seat, Paz desperately tried not to think how many people they’d just killed. Guinto pushed them into the thick of the chase and she blocked out what she could, ignoring the ship-eating ammo targeting another Nav ship in close proximity, anxiously searching for the Lakai’s rig instead. It zigzagged erratically over the moon’s sands, diligently avoiding any fire. Despite that, she could see a few spots where the body’d been singed. They’d been at this for a while. Suddenly it seemed like a good idea to tell Guinto all about the Lakai.

“My friends,” she sickly mumbled as Guinto pushed between two heavily armored ships, distracting them from their target. The Hylerian rolled the capsule, displays lighting up with new stats, Alpha a discolored blur beyond. At least they weren’t rolling with the wings and guns. “They…they’re Hylerian, too. They’ve been fighting the Nav, I think, freeing enslaved Hylerians. They brought me here to—.”

She shuddered and exhaled, another ship blowing up in a firestorm to their right, their own capsule spinning around it to focus on another frigate. Guinto’s beak clicked in confident delight. The violet sky tumbled below them while they raced to their next target. She clutched at her thighs while her heart-rate skyrocketed, definitely impressed if also a little ( _lot_ ) horrified.

“Um, they brought me here to find an artifact important to them,” she added in a squeak, not sure if the Hylerian could hear through her helmet. Two other Nav ships had caught their movement, hustling to close in. They prowled closer like stark, sleek grey clouds on the horizon. Even she knew that was a fucking mistake on their part, bracing for Guinto’s lasers. They screamed across the atmosphere, one more ship cleaving and creating the most fearsome sort of firework she’d ever seen.

“The key you carry,” Guinto calmly guessed while maneuvering around the dash. Unsurprised it knew, Paz confirmed with another squeak. Sky and land blurred in front of them before a new cruiser came into focus. “Clever of them. Did my companion inform you of the keys, Topaz?”

“A little,” she gasped, wincing as fire was returned. She did not enjoy watching lasers thundering their way. Guinto didn’t worry, slipping the capsule just out of reach. It was like the Nav couldn’t target them. “Ah, something about an entity thing?”

“If you are blessed enough to find the third key,” Guinto remarked, targeting the ship that’d tried to hit them, “return to Hyleris, to Lakai.”

_Lakai_?

“Hyleris slumbers there. If you wish to wake it, you may, but understand that unravelling will come at a cost. Do your friends intend to do so?”

Even as Guinto dove into the path of a fighter jet, matching it in speed and avoiding several strikes that would’ve blown away literally anyone else, Paz had to think about it. Was that Coram’s intent? She didn’t know—this shit sounded fake and if she hadn’t just found an ancient Hylerian she might not believe it at all. So why would he believe it, let alone _look_ for these things when it sounded like such a myth? Then again, Coram had been born on Hyleris from what she knew. He’d lived with Hylerians, perhaps a few who maybe knew about these things.

Maybe they’d kept their legends, or truths, to themselves.

“If they did,” she asked, stomach fluttering, flinching as the jet dipped closer, “what would happen?”

Guinto shoved them up and out of harm’s way, guns trained on the jet. Even while fighting the Hylerian took time to carefully explain. “Hyleris is a powerful, powerful entity, Topaz. Nav or not, do you value what has come out of this era?”

Groaning between pants for air, Paz waited until the jet essentially disappeared in a puff of violent, shimmering clouds, the capsule swinging around to find more targets. “You mean like, people and such? Colonies?”

“Yes.”

“I mean…” She swallowed, focusing on the floor. It was sickening just watching the smears of color whizzing outside. She had no idea how Guinto held it together, could barely control her own body at the moment. “I mean I value everyone, I guess? I don’t want anyone hurt.”

“This bothers you then,” Guinto questioned, more for confirmation than for an answer. Paz timidly indicated that was the case and Guinto slid an eye her way. “Yet you are not Nav. You care for life.”

Unless it’d wronged her, ye, or Val needed someone taken care of. Wishing they’d stop spinning, Paz didn’t try and explain further. Guinto didn’t need to hear about what she did. “I’m not out here to play gods. I just—all I want is to go home. I want _my_ family, my crew.”

That answered nothing though Guinto seemed satisfied. Slowing the capsule, the Hylerian twisted to hone in on a large carrier lumbering after the Lakai’s rig. “Topaz. Should you be blessed to find the third key and reach Lakai, it would be wise for you to wake the entity. Intent matters.”

She wasn’t following, too afraid of how fast they were coming up on the carrier to think straight. “Sure. Will do.” Her stomach dropped when the capsule did the same at an unnatural speed and she flinched with it. “Oh, _holy fuck_.”

“Are you impressed?” Guinto inquired. They seemed to be enjoying themselves. Paz forced her helmet to bob. Sure, she was impressed—if by ‘impressed’ Guinto meant terrified of the fact they were decimating an _entire Nav fleet_. Holy fucking hell, she couldn’t think about the death toll on the side that was still the Federation’s law enforcement. She bobbed her head some more and Guinto’s beak clacked. “Good. It will be over soon. Your friends sound worthy of you. I anticipate meeting them, if time allows.”

“If time allows?” she echoed between gritted teeth. Without a word Guinto pointed one finger above them. She paled immediately. More Nav ships were descending, their telltale streaks of light burning bright as they pushed through Alpha’s stratosphere.

_Fuck_. Okay, yes, Guinto was doing some divine work having crippled the current fleet, but another one? Was that really necessary?

“I will take care of these,” Guinto generously offered, as if they knew exactly what she was thinking. “We’ll send you off when it is safe, and then I suggest your friends flee. I will hold oncoming fleets off.”

“Guinto,” Paz firmly growled, forcing herself to focus on the Hylerian. She might be shaking but this was nuts and, goddamnit, why couldn’t they stay still for a second? The whole moon was whirling in her peripheral. “That’s a _really_ bad idea.”

Using their name only made the Hylerian braver. The force of the carrier’s quick destruction hit them, sending the capsule off-kilter until it rammed over the desert toward another jet. “Not all good ideas lead to light, Topaz. Not all bad will lead to dark, either. I wish for this, as much as you wish to return to your family.”

Dick. Swallowing an ensuing argument, Paz hunkered in her chair and waited.

“Okay. Good luck.”

Guinto’s beak parted but refrained from saying more. Instead, both their focus returned to the jumbled dash. Paz made herself watch for the Lakai rig (it was currently barreling over enormous craters at random, firing back where it could at a stealth rig) while Guinto raced the last cruiser in the fleet. Moon and horizon blended with only massive dark patches letting either know where a ship had died. Only a few more ships remained, all scrambling to determine which enemy ship they should focus on.

Most rightfully decided on the Hylerian capsule, the one that moved impossibly fast and sometimes just up and disappeared, only to blink into existence right in front of a ship to blast it to bits. She, personally, hated when that happened but Guinto enjoyed it, beaming with glee. Those jumps didn’t make her scream though. Oh no, what did were the few times they plunged toward Alpha’s surface, pulling up and shooting away just before they crashed. Two Nav ships had fallen for the trick, wrecking themselves in the process. It’d almost be comical if she wasn’t mentally tallying up how many had died and how much trouble they were about to be in.

Slowly but surely the chaos pittered out, especially as the last of the Nav fighters burst from another clean shot courtesy of Guinto. With the fleet momentarily disposed of, the Hylerian swiveled their capsule about in search of the Lakai rig. It still flew, taking a generous lap back toward Alpha’s sarcophagus. Giving it some space, Guinto lazily trailed the ship. Paz asked if they could ping the ship but Guinto didn’t acknowledge the request, distracted with one of the displays.

The closer they drew the more she couldn’t help noticing more ships on the descent. The Nav would be on them in minutes. Nerves growing, she hoped there’d be enough time to at least let her out.

Seeming to think the same thing, Guinto quickly eyed her before reaching for another display. “One last time, Topaz.”

She swore before, in between, and right after the capsule appeared directly over the glimmering top of the colony, quickly lowering to land. Paz didn’t really know if putting her down smack dab _on_ the colony was a good idea, but hopefully it’d signal to the other ship, which should’ve seen their sudden appearance ahead, that they were friendly. And it was large enough it could act as a runway, if necessary.

Their time was quickly coming to an end. Paz’s throat bobbled a little while Guinto set them down, the capsule likely looking nothing how it did when she’d first found it. As the Hylerian checked stats and cut some power she debated what else to say. Like, it looked pretty bad she was letting potentially the last of Guinto’s kind go ahead and take a suicide mission. What else could she do, though? Guinto was clearly stronger than her, clearly had better tech.

The other rig was coming in, cautiously lowering a good distance away. Paz took off her helmet, needing to see Guinto in the flesh. Her knees bounced restlessly until the Hylerian rested one palm over her closest knee yet again. It reminded her of Sam; calm, collected, and there for her.

“It is an honor to have met you, Topaz,” the creature reiterated, beak clicking with care. Making the mistake of meeting Guinto’s gaze, she found both milky irises intent and pleased. Even if it didn’t look like it, she could tell Guinto smiled. “I wish you the best of luck in returning to your family, and am pleased to have been able to show you what you come from.”

Guinto was so sincere about it, too. Ignoring the ache in her chest, Paz dipped her chin and pouted. Just a little. “Thank _you_. You got me out of there.” Pausing, she frowned and quietly added, “Can I give you a hug?”

Guinto pulled her closer, wrapping both arms around her tight. It was almost too much but she endured, strongly returning the gesture and whispering her thanks once more. Very few people had come through in her life without a motivation, but the Hylerian had. No requests, no demands for payment. Just…companionship during a tricky time. She appreciated it so, so much. Slowly pulling back, the Hylerian searched her with bright eyes and a slight chirp.

“Intent matters,” they repeated, words gentle. One long finger traced across her sharp jaw, then rose to swipe down her flat nose. Paz couldn’t help the half-smile on her lips. Deep in her bones she knew that motion, understood it meant something between Hylerians. She’d probably repeat the gesture a hundred million times in her room once she returned to the Osiris.

“Return to your family,” Guinto continued, drawing back to fish something from a pocket. “You look young, Topaz. Enjoy what peace you may find. If, however, you do make your way to Lakai…your intent will matter.”

Ye, ye, the Hylerian had mentioned it enough to be annoying. Leaning forward in her seat, Paz swiped down Guinto’s beak and gave the creature a sly grin. “If that’s what my ancestor wants then I guess that’s what I’ll have to do.”

Honestly laughing now, the Hylerian caught her hand as she moved, showing her a small, circular band of bluish metal between its two fingers. Bright eyes still on her, Guinto waggled the band. “You seem to have lost that device the Terran adore. May I offer an alternative?”

“A comm?” she blurted before she could help herself. The impending doom of the Nav was temporarily forgotten. “But—no, mine’s just dead. Well, broken, I think. Is that—that’s what they look like?”

Guinto clicked. “Our version, yes.”

She didn’t have to think about it. The Lakai rig had already landed, two figures pouring out onto the coffin’s rough surface. She had to do this now.

“Yes,” she breathed, desperate to have anything Guinto offered. “Please.”

“Open your mouth,” the Hylerian in question advised, and she did so without hesitating. Gentle digits held her jaw wider, and then Guinto lodged the little band in the very back of her throat. Since she hadn’t had a drink in ages she nearly choked. Still, she held herself together, allowing Guinto to adjust it as needed. She knew it was secure when the Hylerian withdrew, beak clacking pleasantly. Coughing a little, she shut her mouth and tried to feel for it. Nothing, not even a lingering taste.

“Let it set up,” the Hylerian recommended, this time finding her shoulder to squeeze before swiveling away. “You will find it useful.”

“Promise?” she teased, making the Hylerian huff.

“I promise.”

She hugged Guinto again, this time on her way to the door. The Nav ships were too close for comfort. “Thank you, Guinto. Kick their asses, alright?”

The Hylerian allowed the door to slide open, a burst of noxious air hitting them both. Where Paz choked, Guinto didn’t appear too bothered.

“Helmet,” they advised, playfully pushing her out the door and onto solid ground. Stumbling out, Paz did just that and slid on the rest of her gear, locking it back in place. Satisfied with her adjustments, she turned and eagerly waved goodbye as the door shut, Guinto’s knowing face disappearing with it.

The door clicked with such finality it made her pause, the rest of Alpha fading away for a moment. Biting her lower chapped lip, Paz tried not to cry. They’d just been in the same place at the same time. That was all it’d been. Helping one another out didn’t mean they were friends.

Yes, definitely not friends, she realized as the capsule hummed, then disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving her stranded on the sarcophagus’s massive lid. A brief second later she glanced up at the incoming armada, not at all surprised to see the tiny capsule hurtling at full force right into the path of a frigate, lasers already poised. As promised, Guinto was giving them time.

No, they weren’t friends at all but they were definitely something, and she wouldn’t let the Hylerian’s decision go to waste. She stared only a moment longer to watch the frigate begin the first stages of implosion. That was all she needed to see. Taking a deep breath, she turned toward the waiting ship across the massive roof.

She didn’t know why she’d told Guinto that Coram and Desh were friends. It’d seemed like the right thing to say at the moment, but now… really, she didn’t know what they were.

The frigate’s debris began falling to Alpha, and she took the distracting opportunity to fall down on her ass, legs weak. Every few seconds the sky temporarily lit up. Guinto was plowing through ships like nothing she’d seen before, buying them time on the ground by decimating an entire fleet which surely shouldn’t have been possible. She appreciated it like hell but she’d rather have the Hylerian here instead, not the ones up ahead.

Head bowing (curiosity was trying to get her to watch the battle), she eyed the rifle in her hands instead. Guinto had passed her the smaller of the two prior to leaving. She realized she must look ridiculous what with a pack weighing her down and now a weapon that wasn’t even meant for her. It was too hot in her suit, too— _she’d_ been burning up during the flight, likely due to fear and white-knuckled maneuvers that made her want to pass out. They’d never moved, mind you—she’d just been a pussy about the entire ordeal.

Aware she could breathe, at least for a bit, Paz fumbled with her helmet until it unlocked, yanking it off and setting it aside. She choked just like before though it didn’t stop her from taking in quick, shallow breaths, body struggling to come up with oxygen. Whatever. Holding herself up on one shaky hand she tilted her head and enjoyed the harsh breeze that caressed the moon. It, too, was warm but it was better than being stuck in her suit. She’d head to the other rig in a second.

Or they’d come to her. She could feel the thudding vibrations on the coffin’s surface. Having decided at some point that she didn’t really want to cooperate with someone who’d lied to her, Paz opened one tired eye to confirm that yes, there were two very tall people practically running for her, and then slid her gaze down to the rife. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, drowning out most everything else. A lot had happened here. If they dare thought they could keep treating her like their personal go-getter then they had another thing coming.

While her pulse dizzily spun she grabbed her new favorite weapon, arms quivering as she hefted it into position. It was super awkward but it did look badass when she casually aimed it in the direction of the rig. Both forms immediately halted, one’s arms raising over their helmet. They were still too far off to verify who was who but she bet that was Desh. Dots of white lined her peripheral though she paid them no mind, not yet. She tried taking deeper breaths, feeling like she was getting very little out of it. Still, she _was_ alive.

When one slowly inched forward she took the movement as an invitation to tell them how it was going to be. They weren’t going to hold her captive. They were going to…to…yes, deliver her back to Val, and they were going to do it now. Because that’s what she wanted. She wanted to go home.

High above a war-class dreadnought cleaved in half with an unnatural, metallic groan that hit even down on Alpha. It was followed by a massive carrier. Fighter jets had joined the fray, their angry pings the only thing she heard beyond her stammering pulse and that infernal groaning. Keeping her blurry focus on the approaching figures she summoned the strength to gasp, “I—”

It was all she could get out. It was like something had lodged in her throat, something beside what Guinto had provided. No, this was more like her throat had…shut. Fuck. Forgetting her speech, dropping the rifle, she panicked and scrabbled to pick up her helmet. It was so heavy. When it’d get so heavy? She’d always been able to—

Alpha reeled backward, pulling Paz down with it. Her backpack slammed against the surface, the sky a blur of dark grey and pink, and expanding, fiery orange. Good. Guinto was kicking ass. A little unfairly from the looks of it and not like she approved, but still. Good.

Choking on her own tongue, she couldn’t really pay attention but she was so proud of herself. So…so proud. She’d met a Hylerian. _Hugged_ a goddamned Hylerian. Coram was going to be so jealous.


	28. Ch 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still alive, still with the asshole captain >:(

Deep in that black void she was struggling to keep her head above water. It was so thick this time, like the tarry lifeblood of some planets. Moving pulled her down, yet doing nothing produced the same result. She kicked with all her might, angry with herself for having not been better prepared. It sucked her under anyway.

Despite it being liquid it felt like hands, millions of them in all shapes and sizes, all dragging her to a place she should not go. Down there eternity languished.

It wrung itself about her, pressing what little air she had out and pouring down her throat. She didn’t want to accept it, thrashed best she could, but there was nowhere to go, nothing to stop it. Trapped here, terrified it was the end, all she could think about was someone she didn’t know, a total stranger who’d helped her for the hell of it, and she’d repaid them by suffocating in this awful place. How could she?

_How could she_?

X

At least that tortured dream eventually ended. Paz only knew because it’d morphed into her acquiring some inappropriate action from several past paramours at once. Coram, unfortunately, was included, but he was no match for this lovely chick she’d once hooked up with on the way to Deos. Goddamn she’d been talented, and her tongue—

“Look, all I’m saying is you’re being careless.”

Words filtered in, coaxing her out of sleep. “You’d _never_ do this with anyone else, and look how it ended up. We could’ve been killed, could’ve been handed off to the Nav—what the fuck would we do then? Huh? Bro, you’re taking this too seriously.”

Oh, _someone_ was pissed. Still wrapped up in in her post-sleep haze Paz didn’t move, didn’t try and figure anything out. It felt nice here, wherever she was. Safe. Beyond that however, all she knew was that was Desh talking, and he sounded pretty damn bitter. Her numb body shifted without her help, something tightening around her hip.

“ _I_ didn’t tell her to keep going, alright? You weren’t supposed to let her get ahead, either, so fuck you for that—”

“She was like two steps away!” Desh exclaimed, apparently yelling at Coram. Deep down Paz felt warm and fuzzy knowing he was being bitched at, even if it hurt her ears. “I told you I didn’t want to go. I _told_ you this was gonna get out of hand. I don’t think I’m wrong.”

“Everything’s fine,” Coram insisted in another growl, and she felt that tightening over her hip once more. Despite herself, warmth blossomed under that pressure. “Some shit happened, we dealt with it. We’re good.”

“We’re only good because by some fucking miracle we had help,” Desh shot back. The captain scoffed.

“You got a problem with help?”

“I have a problem with risking everything for some goddamned loot that nobody but _you_ cares about.”

Everything went silent for a long moment. Paz tried to breathe normally, tried not to dwell on the fact he was touching her. At last the captain exhaled.

“Whatever. We lay low, recoup, then head home. Things are still going according to plan.”

“Like hell they are!” This was accompanied by a quick bang on metal. Coram kept quiet, letting Desh go on. “Cor, this is nuts. You’re chasing after a myth and _we’re_ paying for it. For fuck’s sake, none of us can even show our _faces_ anymore. What happens if this works? Huh? Nothing. It changes nothing.”

Those were his fingers, she finally realized, that’d clenched on her thigh, right over where she’d…did she still have the stick? She hoped so. Somewhere close, Coram sighed.

“You want to run shit, then? Want to be in charge of everyone on board? Say the word, man, and it’s yours.”

Desh snarled. “No. I don’t _want_ that. I want you to fucking _think_ for once, okay? Look at this in context. This is worthless, and you’re jeopardizing more than yourself trying to make it happen.”

Something nagged at the back of Paz’s consciousness. Were they…they weren’t on the same page about this artifact collecting, were they? Was Desh the reasonable one between the two of them? Well, she’d sort of figured that, but she assumed he was Coram’s dog through and through. Everything he’d just said sounded a lot like the rants Sam used to go on about Val: how reckless and greedy she was being, how her schemes to profit off lotus and other ventures were always so risky compared to his own ideas. Sam never actually _had_ ideas in that regard, none he’d ever share, but he’d never found Val’s iron-fisted rule tolerable, either.

Mm, Sam. Before she’d been rudely awoken with this nonsense she’d been clinging to him, enjoying the breathy promises he loved to whisper against her neck.

Thinking about him made her smile, which was a mistake. A second later fingers dug into her bare chin, roughly tilting it up. She couldn’t help flinching, cracking one swollen eye to catch a blurry glimpse of someone’s terse face staring down at her.

At first she was a little surprised: pretty blue eyes the color of a pool stared back, accentuating warm brown skin and hair the color of fresh ash. The sharp, angular face and high cheekbones gave Coram away, though his nose was no longer flat but more hooked. His new mods were, she hated to admit, very handsome. Immediately her thoughts went back to her last carnal dream.

Which was probably why she stared a moment too long, brow softening in idle thought. She lay halfway in his lap, she realized, on a bench in the tiny engine room aboard their rig. His hand indeed was tucked over her hip like it’d keep her down, but at least she still wore her suit. No helmet.

And oh, the grimace he suddenly pulled told her a lot. She jerked back from his deft fingers to see Desh brooding in a corner, large arms crossing his chest. Her head lowered, already bruised skull knocking against the bench’s hard surface. Yep, no one was happy. Cool.

“Welcome back,” the captain ground out, any trace of his desperation to keep her alive gone. Paz shut her eyes again. “How was your swim?”

She took a deep breath, relishing the rich oxygen of the rig. Her swim…that felt like forever ago. She barely remembered the endless emptiness. The vault, Hylerians, and a wild ride in a capsule that had no business being as powerful as it was… _those_ were the things still fresh in her mind.

Wait.

She bolted upright in a flash, the tiny room reeling. Stomaching it, her eyes scanned the ground, then the Hylerians, in search of her treasures. She even felt behind her for the pack—gone.

Of course the first thing out her mouth was, “Where’s my shit?”

Desh had the gall to snort, miserably shaking his head. “Told you we should’ve taken the artifact and left her to the Nav.”

Paz jumped off the bench, staggering only slightly. Both men lurched as if she’d hurt herself which was ridiculous. One finger quickly jabbed at the captain’s second. “First off, fuck you. I told you I didn’t need you, and you’re fucking lucky _I_ came back for _you_. Now, where’s my shit?”

Both men paled and exchanged an odd look before Coram cocked his head, those gorgeous blue eyes back on her. He had no suit on, she’d also noted, and neither did Desh. They’d had time to get comfortable.

“ _Where’s. My. Shit_?” she demanded before he could get an answer out. Even if the room wobbled she couldn’t help her muscles tensing, fists aching to hit something. She’d taken all the Hylerian junk on her own, not for him. He could have the pillar but she wanted the rest.

The captain had enough foresight to give some sort of response prior to being assaulted. “You’ll get your weapons back when you go home.”

Understandable. Reasonable even if she was being honest, but not what she’d been concerned about. One set of knuckles smacked back against the wall, her agitation rising. “No. Where’s the rest? That’s—it’s _mine_.”

“Don’t give it back,” Desh murmured, though Coram (smartly) ignored him.

“You’ll get the rest back after you’ve told me what the hell happened,” he negotiated, keeping his eyes on hers. Strangely, Paz found it difficult to stay too pissed, mostly because her energy was crumbling.

She leaned against the wall, taking a moment to start unzipping her suit with trembling fingers. If it bothered them then too bad. “Fine. I went inside headquarters, found the stick, picked up a couple souvenirs, found a way out, and here I am.”

That wasn’t a good answer. Coram leaned forward, arms dropping between his thighs. “Would it kill you to be a little more detailed? _How’d_ you get out?”

“How long was I in there?” she countered, shimmying the suit over her hips. “Thought your second was gonna hang out with me. Why were you both zipping around fighting the Nav?”

“See?” Desh grumbled, huffing in contempt. “You can’t even have a conversation with her.”

“Don’t think he asked you,” she threw at him, offering a rude gesture for good measure. Again, the two men exchanged another look. Coram swallowed, gaze dropping to fiddle with a speck on his pants.

“Ah…you were in there for some time. We couldn’t get a hold of you so Desh was going to take some spare parts to find you. I came in close but a Nav patrol caught us, so…you know, we were trying to keep them off the colony. They’d become highly interested in it and—I didn’t see the patrol in time.”

Paz developed a genuine, if tired, smile. One hand dug into her pant pockets. “Look at you, admitting to your own fuck-ups. Never thought I’d witness that.”

This time Desh didn’t snicker but she did catch him trying to conceal a smirk from the corner of her eye. Her hand wrapped around the black key, its hum thrumming through her veins. She only waited a moment before extracting it, tossing it at the captain’s lap. He caught it, surprise smoothing out that suave face.

“There you go,” she stated, glad the wall was holding her up at this point. “One stick, and in one piece. I think that explains everything, ye?”

Because she did not want to tell him about Guinto or the other Hylerian. He could tell, too, eyebrows lowering before he dared glance up at her. “How…how’d you get it? Topaz, this doesn’t have to be hard. Just tell me—”

“I don’t think you want me to,” she interrupted, doing her best to shake off her suit the rest of the way. While it puddled around her feet she added, “Because if I tell you then we’ll both know you’re a liar and would you like to get in a fight right now? Because I’d really, _really_ like to punch you.”

With each word he’d gone progressively stiffer, and when Paz glanced up she didn’t hate the angry red dusting his neck and cheeks. In fact, she grinned at the sight.

“But,” she loftily teased, “if I get my shit back, maybe I’ll tell you about this dude I pulled out of cryo down there. Your choice. Also, what’s this about lying low?”

“I’ll be in the cockpit,” Desh abruptly announced, dipping out the room in a flash. This left the clearly irked captain and Paz alone, and since it was just him she dropped the posturing to slide to the ground on her rump, somehow kicking off her boots. He didn’t look at her for a while, slowly turning the artifact over and over in his hands. Good. She didn’t really want to hear him talk, anyway. Despite that, she couldn’t resist uttering a soft laugh.

“Guess you picked the right person all along. I did enjoy the challenge. Sorry it fucked your guys position.”

“That’s why we’re lying low,” Coram quietly answered, still eyeing the pillar with a keenness she generally didn’t see out of him. He usually liked to look emotionless. “Never really looks good when several dozen Nav ships are destroyed and you have to spend precious fuel racing in circles to lose pursuing fleets. You’re lucky you were out for that bit.”

Ye, she bet that part sucked. She would’ve been a backseat driver for that. How many ships had Guinto taken down? The Hylerian had a score to settle, she understood that, but even she’d been surprised when they’d taken the Nav to task, downing more ships than she figured Coram probably had in his entire career. It’d been intense. And they probably blamed him.

When they should’ve blamed her.

Letting her legs go loose, she tried to relax and not think about that. Having the pillar in the same room was distracting. “Damn. How long we talking?”

“Couple days. Need to get out of this quadrant.”

_Damn_. It figured her ticket home would be delayed, too. She could deal with bitching at him for a little longer. He probably had answers to her burning questions, too, no matter how much she wanted to sock him and keep the information she’d gleaned to herself.

She took in a deep, deep breath, focusing on her incredibly empty, scarred hands. “Those are keys, aren’t they?”

Coram pulled back, aquamarine eyes snapping to look at her like she’d just grown a second head. He seemed at a loss for words so she went on. Or, she tried to. Her voice caught, reminded of her stupid decision to let Guinto go. Forgetting her own questions, she furtively glanced up at him, attempting once more.

“I…there were things down there, about Hyleris. Like what we…come from. You knew about that, didn’t you?”

Without missing a beat the captain stood, swiping around her to the door, never letting go of the pillar. “I’ll go get your things.”

She let her head rest against the wall, idly staring at where he’d just sat. He definitely knew considering he didn’t even try to deny it. She’d think on it more but she’d knocked out before he returned, back to that black void, drowning in its embrace.


	29. Ch 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh ho ho ho ho, Paz isn't the only one with bad ideas, I promise.

-Centurion Beta, Orion Quadrant, M19-

“You’re sure about this?”

“Ye.”

There was a skeptical huff. “You literally just want to…that’s seriously your plan?”

“Mm, don’t think I stuttered earlier.”

“Tch, and you thought _I_ was dumb.”

Coram didn’t take his eyes off the dash, Centurion Beta closing in up ahead. “Never said you were dumb.”

“Okay, _creative_.” Glaring at the one place she never thought she’d actually grace, Paz huffed once more. “This is so dumb.”

And, given Desh kept his jaw shut tight to the right of her, she believed he felt the same. He’d never say it, oh no, but she could tell by the way he mechanically punched at the rig’s display that he wasn’t pleased. Good. Maybe one day she’d exploit that. Today, however, unabashed desire to enter Centurion Beta was clouding her already poor judgment, rendering her somehow willing to go along with Coram’s really, _really_ stupid idea.

The captain himself didn’t disagree, holding his grim smile. He simply pulled the rig down, thrusters pushing them into Beta’s outer, artificial stratosphere at a steadily increasing speed. This wasn’t a good idea, but one that would get them what they needed. “Don’t think either of you will be complaining once we get down there.”

“Don’t think you’ll complain once we’re there,” Paz mocked in a lower voice, muttering more beneath her breath. She swiftly exited the cockpit to search for her things, stomach in knots over their way too quick descent.

She’d slept much longer than intended, but it was nice to finally get more than a couple hours of rest. She’d only been awake and not groggy for maybe an hour or two now, idly taking inventory of the Hylerian things finally in her possession when Coram returned to the engine room to tell her how they were going to lay low, and they were going to start now.

Up until he started explaining she’d been okay with the idea of lingering in space but that was not the plan. Instead, they were going to hurtle into Beta’s exposed bit of created atmosphere and land, crash, make it look like they’d died in said crash, then trek into the colony on foot. There they would steal a new ship that wouldn’t attract attention, and once that was complete, take off for wherever the Lakai sat in the void. How he intended to do half of this she didn’t know, nor care—it sounded incredibly stupid, even by her standards.

And yet, the opportunity to see Beta had presented itself. How could she turn that down? Besides, this way she wouldn’t be stuck in a cramped rig with two people whose company she didn’t particularly enjoy.

How were they going to survive crashing? Shoving her backpack on in the engine room, Paz ignored the increased whining of their thrusters. Coram was practically shooting them at the colony. For some reason she’d always imagined Beta as huge but it hadn’t looked that big from the rig’s portholes, not even from orbit. While the colony and its artificial landscape did occupy half the planet it’d been built on, the planet itself wasn’t huge. More like Alpha’s size. Beta, however, had clearly learned from previous mistakes. It was the second biggest colony in the entire Federation, and certainly the most prosperous.

Even from the rig Paz had taken one look at it and knew it was going to be everything she’d imagined.

But back to the survival part. Coram and Desh would be safely strapped into their seats, bracing for impact. There were only two seats in the cockpit, both with proper precautions. All the tech in the universe couldn’t prevent her from splattering against the dash if she wasn’t strapped down, not at the velocity Coram apparently thought was appropriate for crashing. That indeed had been something he hadn’t figured out yet, but by then they were already descending and he’d unkindly mentioned the cabinet she’d crammed herself into previously.

He was such a dick.

Pack on, she worked through the ship searching for someplace safe to hide. That goddamn cabinet wouldn’t keep her in place, and when she’d looked in the few other areas the ship afforded, nothing else seemed sufficient.

Well…

Pausing in the antechamber meant for cryo-sleep she considered the two pods stacked side by side. The room itself was smaller than the engine room, with only enough space to open pod doors. Staring at their frost-covered display panels, she figured they were better than nothing.

She had no idea how they worked—they were only used for really long hauls and she’d never had a need to go into prolonged sleep (also, her rig on the Osiris hadn’t come equipped with one so there was that), but she didn’t need it to work. Just to…hold her.

It was all she could think of in the limited time they had so it’d have to do. Reaching for the closest pod’s door she yanked it open, ready to climb in and—

“ _WHO IS THIS?!_ ” she shrieked, slamming the pod shut and jerking back, hitting the wall behind her. For a second she wasn’t in her own body, wasn’t even there, bewildered as wide eyes fixated but did not dare register the pod before her. There’d been a body in there. A freshly dead one judging from the puffy frozen skin, and it was not someone she’d seen either at Fiala’s estate or on the Lakai. What the fuck?

Okay, back in her body she took a shuddering breath, then gingerly opened the pod once more. Footsteps quickly thundered from down the hall but she paid them no mind. There was a dead person in the rig. That was kind of a surprise. Despite that, she still needed in the pod.

Desh pushed her hand away before she could open the other one, crowding into the room with her. He was shouldering her out like she had no business there, which she didn’t, but that wasn’t the point.

“Go take my seat,” he roughly instructed. “Now.”

“Uh, a little late to pretend this isn’t here,” she snapped back, trying to shove her way into the room. “Who the fuck is that?”

“They can wait,” he exclaimed over her, throwing her out in the hall with one harsh elbow. “Get up there _now_.”

He had that urgency in his voice that made her reconsider arguing. Paz still sneered, taking off up the short hall and climbing into the cockpit where Desh’s seat sat empty—the same one she’d nearly died in. Oh, perfect.

“Strap in,” Coram commanded, focus on the dash. Beta was much closer now, puffy clouds whizzing by. Dumbstruck, she stared at the dash, too. She could see topography now; the spines of mountain ranges, giant lakes and plains, all of which were growing at a dizzying pace.

“ _Strap in_.”

Okay, okay. He didn’t have to snarl. Lips pursed, Paz plopped into Desh’s still warm seat and fumbled with its safety straps. Sweat had made her hands a little useless, though the threat of being splattered in a minute or so compelled her to do her best and the belts finally clasped shut over her torso. Head. She needed protection for her head to prevent whiplash. Coram didn’t have a helmet on. Should they? Beta was growing, green flora now visible, sort of like Hiduron’s thick forests of huasca.

It was a little late to panic yet she did just that, sinking as far as the straps would let her go and digging her nails into the rubbery armrests like it might help. The dash had lit up in a swath of alarming displays which made her want to vomit. Every muscle had gone taut as she realized they were probably going to die. Here she’d thought the trip to Alpha might be tricky—no, it was the trip to Beta that would be the end of everything. Fuck, this was suicide.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” she hissed, more to herself than anything, knees drawing closer. She should’ve gone with Guinto. Should’ve just fucking disappeared. _This_ couldn’t get worse.

“Here we go,” Coram breathed, just a meter away, banking only slightly. Did it make her feel better knowing they’d die together? Not really. Her insides rolled, feeling just as drawn and pale as she figured she looked.

She didn’t dare glance at the dash any longer, eyes shut tight and trying to remember several things at once, all which were very important. Sam and Val’s beautiful faces, of course, and then the gods they prayed to. Did they have room to take on a Hylerian? It was probably a little too late for redemption.

This wasn’t good, not at all. The cockpit was ablaze in angry alarms. She attempted drowning them out with her own humming, severely wishing she had her comm. Wait, what about Guinto’s comm? Maybe she could—

A thunderous roar hit her first, right before every bone and organ in Paz’s body yanked one way and then the other. She slammed right into the unconscious void that seemed to be her only friend lately, drifting in the darkness while her body, numb yet on fire, throbbed somewhere else.

She just kept sinking.

Down.

Down.

Deeper.

Man, she couldn’t keep doing this. The void was an awful place and she was sure Aim probably didn’t want her in here. Fuck Aim; she could’ve prevented all of this. Could’ve just _not_ fixed her, could’ve let her die so she didn’t have to deal with this bullshit. Beyond that, she didn’t appreciate involuntary blackouts. When _she_ caused them it was one thing. This, however, wasn’t even fun-related and she highly resented that.

Yet this time it wasn’t too bad, if only because there was a faint humming in the emptiness, something keeping even the tarry blackness at bay. Listless, Paz strained to better hear it. It sounded familiar, but not…not really. Like something she’d heard a long, long time ago.

The gentle melody caressed her, told her to look up so she did. High above the void there was a pinprick of light, like an orbiting moon on a dark planet. Like Alpha, she supposed, but brighter. Had she ever noticed that before or was it new? Mildly curious, she wriggled a little, ribs stinging. The void let her go, let her slip up and away, rising like a glimmering bubble of air to the surface. That pinprick grew and grew, melody crescendoing as she gently swam through the dark.

Soft chirps interrupted the song.

“ _That’s the way_.”

She couldn’t have stopped herself from lurching out of her stupor even if she’d wanted to, gasping as she was pulled back into consciousness. Nothing made sense to her blurry vision as she choked out, “Guinto?”

Fuck, that hurt. She was trying to get out of her chair, she realized, but was stuck thanks to all those straps that’d somehow held on. Every inch of her was screaming in a snappy sort of pain but…well, she was alive, and the ship had apparently…crashed. Landed? Crash landed, as planned. Forcing herself to relax, she went limp and tried to make sense of the smoky, cracked scene before her.

It was difficult to look at, especially when her brain still reeled, nothing really registering. The dash—what used to be the dash was a mess of splintered, smoldering debris. An overwhelming metallic smell filled her nose and lungs and she wanted to retch yet again. One arm weakly moved to brush something tickling her forehead. She knew something was wrong when a wetness coat the edge of her palm. Pulling back, it took a second to understand the thin red substance was blood. Mm, that wasn’t good.

She was working on the strap buckles before it occurred to her there were other people on board. Mind loose, just like her tongue, she forced her head one way and dazedly scanned the left of the cockpit. There was a body in the chair next to her, Coram’s. He was out, or dead—fuck, she hoped not because she couldn’t imagine a fate worse than doing this all alone with Desh. Tangled in his straps he hung toward her. One arm dangled past the armrest, fingers drooping close to the floor, a slight trickle of blood running down his elbow.

He was, she numbly decided, the stupidest person ever. Even stupider than her.

“Hey,” she wheezed, summoning the strength to slide forward. Fuck, her chest hurt. One hand on her chair, the other at her ribs, she shuffled into his personal space. Further inspection showed he had a nasty lump swelling on his temple and…

Fuck. His mods were gone. They’d deal with that in a second though. Right now she leaned against his armrest, wincing as she stooped and tilted his head back, careful of the lump. His eyelids didn’t flutter at all, which terrified her. Despite that, the skin under her slick palm was warm and she could feel a faint pulse near his temple, too. Oh, thank the fucking stars he was alive.

“Hey,” she tried again, using newfound clarity to look him over a little better. No visible injuries beyond his head, and she supposed she had a similar lump (or gash if she was bleeding). She didn’t see where the blood on his arm came from. “Hey, motherfucker. Wake up.”

She uttered various pet names she’d recently dubbed him, wishing she could climb back into her chair instead of lightly clapping at his cheek. He looked so harmless like this, muscles loose and utterly defenseless. No scowl; just the peaceful, exhausted face of a nice looking man. Something in her chest ached more than just her ribs.

Very carefully, she knelt between his sprawled legs and started unbuckling the straps for him, hoping the movement might rouse him. “Come on, buddy. We hit the ground, okay? So you gotta get up and finish your plan cos I don’t know what you were thinking. I mean…you clearly had something in mind. Someone probably noticed us on the way down, too, so we need to…need to keep going, alright? So…you know, wake your ass up. Maybe not for me, but Desh’ll be so pissed if you don’t, okay? He’ll—I don’t know, he might snap. Someone’s gotta keep him in check, ye?”

Shrugging one arm out of the upper straps she rather desperately added, “Come on, bro; there’s another stick to get and I know…it could work, alright? It could work.”

A slight noise rumbled up his chest, easing her worry just a little. Paz tepidly smiled, one palm back on his cheek. “Tell me you’re okay. Just a ye or no.”

Again there was that weak grunt. It was good enough for her. Struggling back to her feet, she sidled between their chairs to eye the damaged cabin some more. The dash had been pretty jarring what with its cracked paneling and mess of charred tech, but the back was just as awful. Back here it was a mess; a total loss. Tech and panels were strewn all over, just as one could expect from a crash. If anyone were to come looking they’d definitely suspect the crew would’ve died. If there were no bodies though, that’d ruin the illusion—

“ _Oh_ ,” she softly remarked, leaning on the back of Coram’s chair, one hand reaching back to gently squeeze his shoulder. “That’s what the dead guy’s for. Was he Nav? Is that— _that’s_ why you put me in the cabinet, ye? Clever.”

Not that it was clever in a good way. She just saw the cold logic in the plan. Were both pods occupied with dead Nav cops? What would they have done with the bodies if all had gone according to the original plan? Float them on the way home?

Muscles twitched under her fingers followed by a slight groan. Paz twisted, calmly watching for an odd moment as Coram took in a shallow breath, body straightening with it. She let him go through the same motions she had—try to make sense of the wreck around him, take inventory of himself, and finally tilt his head to look at the hand on his shoulder.

“You are so, _so_ fucking lucky we’re alive,” she confessed, removing her hand and trudging down the hall. “Next time you try and kill us it’d better be even nicer than Beta. Now sit tight. I’m gonna go check on your buddy.”

“H-hold on,” the captain rasped, groaning next. She knew without looking he was trying to get up. “Don’t…don’t tell him it was bad. Please.”

If Desh was even alive she’d consider, but she didn’t know if he’d crammed himself into the pod in time or if that’d even worked. However, the fact Coram was already trying to negotiate irked her. Too tired to argue she kept moving, stumbling through the rig until she wandered into the cryo-room. She did not appreciate seeing someone legitimately splattered in one corner, but at least it wasn’t Desh. Nah, the truly fucked up body had a Nav uniform on.

Coram’s second was tucked nice and safe in the pod nearest the entryway, looking for the life of him like he was happily sleeping beneath the semi-frosted panel. The rig’s power was clearly dead if it was already defrosting. How long had they been out?

It took a few tries to actually yank open the door. In a soft hiss of ice Desh fell forward directly on her and they both collapsed in the suffocatingly small space. He was heavy and huge and holy fuck, Paz felt like she was being crushed all over again. She let loose a mighty yelp, which must’ve startled him enough to rouse because suddenly he was struggling, both of them desperate to untangle from one another. For far too long it was all she could do not to bite him as he thrashed this way and that.

“The captain okay?” he coughed, shivering once he’d finally pulled himself into a corner, hauling Paz to her feet next in one swift, jarring motion. For a moment she debated on whether to scream at him, simply walk away, or give him the raw details. It’d serve Coram right but he’d sounded so…desperate. Rubbing over her ribs she looked to the Nav mess in the other corner, wanting to vomit all over again.

“Ye. He’s good. He’s just doing a survey of the cockpit.” She couldn’t help groaning, pain and nausea hitting at once. “ _Fuck_. Wish we hadn’t switched places.”

For once Desh offered a wicked grin. He even poked at the sore spot on her head, which made her hiss through her teeth and hit the wall. “Looks like you got walloped. Let’s get these guys in the cockpit before you clean up.”

She’d rather not. Sidestepping him, she staggered into the hall and headed for the hatch to the exit. “Mm, nah. That was your guys’ plan, apparently, not mine.”

He said more but she’d opened the hatch and tumbled to the chamber below. It was terribly ungraceful but she was glad he didn’t come trotting after. Whimpering down at the bottom on her own was a lot better without an audience. And—fuck, she’d probably crushed everything in her pack by now. _Fuck_.

Okay, she was really relieved he didn’t follow because she was sure she was crying and her head now pounded in renewed fury. Something kept popping in her chest and she was fairly certain that wasn’t normal.

But. She was alive. Alive, and breathing, and on Centurion Beta. Not dead. That meant she had a chance to return to Sam, like she’d promised. She could still do this. Yes, she could. She would. There’d been worse moments. Yes, worse. This just hurt because it was new. And…and she’d get to see Beta now. She’d get to see what all the fuss was about.

_You can do this. You can. You’ve been through worse, remember? This’ll be fine._

It took basically right until the captain and Desh slid open the top hatch above her to properly recompose herself back into her usual, irreverent self, and she’d picked herself up by then, too. She didn’t want to know what she looked like, didn’t care, and she bet neither of the men did, either, since Coram appeared about as pissy as could be. Presumably Desh had delivered the bad news about his mods.

At least he was kind enough to drop down her suit—where he’d found it she had no idea. Mustering up her swagger she halfheartedly flashed her teeth.

“We’re headed out, right? Into Beta’s…where’d we land?”

“Put on your suit,” Coram tiredly advised, nodding to where it’d puddled on the floor. “No helmet. Air’s good here. We’ll make a push through the jungle, try and get close to the colony. Camp overnight, see what we can mend, then push the rest of the way to Beta come dawn.”

Dawn, because there wasn’t a glo-rise out here. No, this was the real thing.

She blinked up at them both. “Um. Your face—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he growled over her, looking away and past his shoulder. “Let’s just—fucking go.”

Tch. That was the last time she’d try doing anything for him out of the kindness of her heart. Stiffly picking up the suit she stepped to the outer hatch and started working at its manual lock. “You guys prop the Nav up in the cockpit?”

“Ye.” Desh was already on his way down, the most agile of the three at the moment. He currently carried all their viable gear, too. “Should keep authorities off our trail.”

The lock popped free. Paz didn’t waste any more effort on small talk with them, shoving it open and letting fresh, warm, viable air whoosh into the chamber. The rig had definitely crashed hard, mounds of dirt, rubble and roots of some sort piled high on either side of the ship. Aside from the sound of burning parts, it seemed quiet here. Subdued, almost. That was…nice, actually.

It was only a meter or two to the ground but she didn’t think she could jump without hurting herself. Thus, Paz pretended she had no audience and crawled off the hatch using its ladder all the way to the lumpy, squishy ground.

“Paz,” Coram called from the rig. He was ignored as her boots planted themselves firmly on Centurion Beta’s soil.

That nice, _safe_ feeling that came with being near a colony pulsed in her veins. She bit her lip, fighting the impulse to cry again. At least this was a good feeling, something currently keeping her upright. She seriously needed some food, and maybe more rest And a shower A long one.

That’d wash off Guinto’s touch though. It was stupid, she knew as she turned to survey giant, ancient trees looming up past the dirt, but she wanted that contact with the Hylerian for as long as possible. It was all she had.

Someone hit the dirt a second later, then the captain. Glancing over her shoulder, suit still held in the crook of an elbow, Paz dully took in Desh and Coram’s disheveled figures as they, too, tiredly drank in the view. Clearly they didn’t get on the ground very much, either.

Tired and achy as she was, she took the first steps for the jungle surrounding the rig. They’d follow; she knew they would, because that was what they did. So, she wasn’t too worried when she grumbled, “Glad we nearly died for this. Makes us even, I guess.”


	30. Ch 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out Beta's outskirts are a bit like an awful camping trip gone wrong, but Paz is enjoying it, sort of, for the most part. She and the captain hash it out and she gets to experience the closest thing Andromeda might have to an ocean. Also, now we know Coram has at least 2 large tattoos and they definitely have no effect on Paz at all, d e f i n i t e l y n o t.

Chirping woke Paz up well before dawn. At first she thought it was Guinto but no, those were birds. Real ones.

And she was on solid ground which was, somehow unexpectedly, very hard. Still, the second they’d stopped for the night she’d stretched out amongst ferns and old trees and slept like the dead.

She, Desh, and Coram had trudged through what seemed like an endless stretch of jungle the previous day, clamoring over thick roots and between massive trunks while there was still light, then silently picking their way even further once night fell. This was all in a bid to put as much distance between them and the crashed rig as possible, and in doing so there was barely time to appreciate, much less look at, their surroundings. Paz could hardly think straight anyway, and she had a feeling the captain was in the same condition. They essentially followed wherever Desh guided them, silent and aching and clearly not in the mood to do more than move forward. Thus, the second they did stop Paz was down and out, willing an awful headache to dissipate and praying her insides would magically feel better when she awoke.

They didn’t, and her head still pounded as she slowly rolled one way, eyelids twitching. Her ribs burst in pain on the short roll; she held in her gasp and forced herself to listen to the stupid birds, to take in the gentle, early morning colors.

It felt like a dream. A horribly painful, if beautiful, one.

Even though she knew she was awake, shivering in a pre-dawn chill, it just didn’t seem real. Paz had never been somewhere like this, never spent time in a place meant to simulate a ‘natural’ habitat to this degree. Nature surrounded them, things the Federation had sought to hold onto from elsewhere. Towering evergreens which filtered out a golden pink light were probably older than several colonies, and as hard as the ground felt beneath her it was made up of way too many layers of detritus to count. Shadows of those chirping birds flitted high above, their songs quite…pleasant, if Paz was being honest. Cold as she was, she found she enjoyed waking up to something so…peaceful.

The soft lighting and serene view weren’t nearly as nice with two Hylerian men sprawled a mere couple meters away, one slightly snoring and the other face down in the dirt. Coram’s comatose figure she at least understood, though she suspected at least one of them was supposed to be awake and on watch. Half resting against a tree trunk with his jaw open, Desh definitely wasn’t awake, either.

Well. What a prime opportunity to escape.

She took her time rising upright, head reeling angrily with the movement. Paz surveyed slightly blurry trees to her left and right, trunks of spry red bark and ashy beige blending in with other varieties of flora she couldn’t identify beyond shrubbery and whatnot. She liked the ones with feathery green boughs the most, always had in vids, but when they were out in a place meant to simulate some sort of ancient home (Terra, she supposed) it just looked…better.

Okay, she didn’t like the bug bites itching across her skin but that was minor. If she’d been smart and put on her suit last night they probably wouldn’t have happened in the first place. Alas, she’d been too tired and out of it to consider such a daunting task.

Her favorite part about being here though, all other things aside, was how sweet the air was, and she inhaled as deeply as she could, ignoring the ache in her ribcage. Every breath was deliciously clean. No lingering scents of the void.

If she ditched the other two right now she’d happily lose herself out here. It’d probably work, at least for a while. Paz wasn’t a survival expert but she figured she could deal with most things. Leaving, however, might land her in more trouble if the Nav were to find her. She trusted Val’s decision to enlist the Nav’s help in finding her but she did not trust the Nav itself, especially not right now. Any chance of them pinning a massive attack on her meant they would _not_ be nice.

And Guinto…Guinto had been relentless. She’d let it happen, too, never really tried to stop the Hylerian. She’d expected maybe a couple fighter jets to go down, not an _entire fleet_ or two. Or three. Honestly the Hylerian probably hadn’t stopped until Alpha’s skies were clear. How was she supposed to ignore that? The Nav clearly wouldn’t.

The only way she’d safely (and hopefully quietly) return to Val would be via the two douchebags nearby. Not ideal, yet she believed they’d be able to elude cops, leave Beta in a different ship, and eventually hand her over. Judging by Coram’s rash decisions she knew he was dumb enough to actually attempt. He’d been dumb enough to try crashing and that’d somehow worked so…might as well see how he intended on picking up where he’d left off.

Was this what it was like for her crew when she went and pulled stupid shit? Just cringing and hoping for the best?

Least neither one was up at the moment. Yesterday it’d been easy to avoid discussing what’d gone down on Alpha. She had a feeling her luck wouldn’t last through today.

Both stiff legs sprawled loosely while she thought over how to best avoid the topic. In the slight morning breeze she caught a whiff of something salty, just a hint of it. She’d never smelled anything like it. Curious, Paz pushed to her knees before wobbling onto sore feet. Standing still, that breeze from between the trees hit a little harder, its tangy scent mingling beautifully with the crisp forest air. She couldn’t help turning into it, trying to determine where it came from.

Madalin, Beta’s ‘ocean’.

Beyond the woods something glimmered, a blue darker than the slowly lightening sky above. Careful to keep her expectations low, Paz tentatively crept past a few large ferns and up on top an earthen mound. She squinted, becoming a bit more coherent with each new breath. That was water on the horizon. Well, pretty far off down a steep slope and behind a million looming trees, but still. That—Madalin was down there? _The_ beach? She’d swoon if she had more energy.

“Made it,” she croaked in a whisper, relief palpable. Sam obviously couldn’t hear her but it was still meant for him. If only he were here, too. Incensed all over again, she swiftly turned and stomped back to their makeshift camp.

Both Desh and Coram were still out despite her heavy steps which wouldn’t do, not at all now that she was in a mood. They were why she was here, after all.

Desh jolted awake when she chucked at pebble at his chest, rifle aiming head on for a second as he likely had a miniature panic attack. From across their camp Paz curled her upper lip and dropped the other few stones she’d picked up. Relieved but definitely also embarrassed to see her up before him, Desh lowered the rifle and exhaled harshly.

Her stiff lip quickly turned into a false, pretty smile. “Oh, good morning. Sleep well?”

“Just resting my eyes,” he retorted in a rough grumble, clearing his throat afterward. They’d both need some water here soon. At least there’d been food and water on the rig but that was no longer an option.

“Sure,” Paz loftily mused, stretching both arms over her head. “Secret’s safe with me. Now get his sorry ass up so we can go.”

“You’re not in charge,” Desh was quick to point out, as if that meant something to her. Staring at him a moment, Paz’s fake smile dissipated into a hardened scowl.

“Ye,” she acknowledged, abruptly turning to head back between the ferns. “Neither are you. I’ll keep watch so we don’t die, alright?”

And then she spent ten minutes or so circling the camp’s perimeter, returning only when someone loudly swore. Emerging from the ferns she found Coram on his ass, back hunched, and Desh on his knees behind the captain, diligently poking behind his left ear with a tool from their meager supplies. Blood streaked down Coram’s neck and over (and likely under) his suit. Neither man looked pleased. Coram’s face was still his own, too, which was probably why he seemed pissed. Ugh, she hated that she liked that face. She started to resume her prowl but Coram held up a palm, beckoning her to stay.

“You know, I don’t do good with blood,” she offered, a boldfaced lie, and tepidly remained at the edge of the clearing. “And you just so happen to be covered in it so…think I’ll stay right here.” An idea came to her as she propped both fists on her hips. “There’s water nearby. Might do good to wash up.”

“Careful,” Coram barked, eyes going wide a moment. Behind him Desh paused in his digging with the tool, face unreadable. Slowly, he started up once more, and they both ignored the captain’s stuttering snarl. Paz unabashedly stared at his naked face while he was distracted. She couldn’t help it; it was just as nice as the others, but knowing it was the one responsible for a lot of carnage made her uneasy.

Actually, that was ridiculous at this point. She’d just _let_ another Hylerian go ahead and probably murder thousands. Goddamnit, she had to keep that thought out of her head.

“Impact screw up your mods?” she guessed, having assumed that but since neither of them were very free with pertinent information she’d kept it to herself. Coram’s bloodshot eyes caught on her, intense and clearly full of pain at the moment. Served him right for making things so complicated in the name of covering their tracks.

“Ye,” he tightly uttered, knuckles white against his thighs. “Restarting it now.”

His whole comm was planted behind his ear, then. Paz considered that, toeing the cool dirt. She didn’t remember where hers was, had never needed to know. Val’d just taken her one day to have it inserted. She’d been knocked out and when she woke up there was a welcome display in her head and that was that. It’d taken an agonizing month of excellent behavior to earn the privilege of a comm so she’d never dared ask questions. Sam had even taken the blame for several offenses so she could have one. She’d never jeopardize that.

“Is that…usually where they put comms?” she quietly inquired, aware it was a dumb question but thinking about the one Guinto had provided. So far she had no idea how to use it or what it’d look like—or whether it was damaged from the crash, too.

“The hardware, ye,” Coram hissed, muscles flexing in his neck and jaw as Desh tweaked something. He didn’t elaborate so she didn’t ask more, head bobbing in understanding.

Another stream of blood trailed down his neck and she swore the captain almost passed out, though he held as still as he could and allowed Desh to dick around. The other Hylerian looked pained to even do it but he was trying his best, digging in with one hand, the other holding Coram’s head steady. It occurred to her they were very close, relationship wise, and she frowned.

“Are you two brothers?” She’d never seen Desh’s true face so she wasn’t sure. Both suddenly glanced up at her in surprise, but only Desh’s skin colored angrily.

“That’s none of your business,” he snapped. Coram, at least, gave an answer.

“No.” One eye twitched shut while his second wrenched the tool. “W-why?”

Uh, because that was how she’d heard them addressing one another yesterday? They never spoke to her on their trek, oh no, but together they were far less formal.

“I dunno,” she softly finished, giving up. Both arms swung at her side, brushing up against velvety ferns. This was becoming boring. “Just thought…never mind. Are you about finished?”

“Thought you didn’t— _fuck_ —know Hylerian,” the captain accused, which made her rather pissy in less than a second. She settled her glare on his trembling neck.

“I don’t.”

“Uh, I think you do.”

“Really now?” Glare dissolving, she rolled her eyes and cast her attention elsewhere. “And how do you figure that?”

“Because,” he spat, “you’re answering me.”

Oh. “But—.” Paz stopped herself, surprised. Guinto’s comm worked, then, because she definitely hadn’t understood them up until yesterday. It worked. She couldn’t tell the difference, personally, but it _did_ work. Sort of.

Grinning slightly, she shrugged as if it weren’t a big deal. “Guess it rubbed off.”

Desh paused once more, eyeing her suspiciously. “How’d you get your comm on?”

Paling, mostly because they both suddenly appeared ten times more pissed than usual, Paz considered how she should answer that. The second one of them could afford to move they’d be on her and she knew it—comms could be tracked. She stepped back into more ferns, fists clenching the soft leaves. Now would be a good time to explain things but, damnit, she was a bit of a stubborn ass herself and she didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing about what’d gone on in Alpha.

Instead she tightened her own jaw and eyed the dirt around her painfully filthy boots. “I don’t think it’s mine.”

Their camp went quiet, both Coram and Desh staring at her like she was the worst person between the three of them. Desh kept staring until he abruptly focused back on the gash he’d created behind Coram’s ear, huffing in contempt.

“I can’t find it,” he muttered, digging in with renewed vigor. Doing so caused a visible ripple under Coram’s skin. “You can figure that out.”

‘You’ being the captain, of course. Making a rude noise Paz flipped around, diving into the forest. “Whatever. Keep on fucking with his brain. I’m gonna go check out the water.”

“Paz!”

“I’ll be careful,” she insisted in a holler, already traipsing off. “I’ll keep away from people and whatnot—I’ll even go slow enough you can tackle me if you ever finish up here.”

This time it was Desh who roared his frustrations, cursing. “Get your fucking ass back here before I show you what a pissed Hylerian looks like!”

“Oh, I’m _so_ scared,” Paz yelled back, heat climbing up her chest. She wanted to goad him, wanted to provoke him into a fight (which was a terrible idea, by the way). Honestly, at this point she had no idea why—she just did. She thought she’d succeeded, too, when she heard him chucking something and getting up.

But then something clapped something else and Desh’s heavy steps halted, leaving her free to roam onward. Paz suspected he was being reprimanded. She took the opportunity and flounced on, true to her word as she slowly picked her way through the lightening forest, downhill and in the direction where she’d seen water. The water itself grew more obscured in the trees the lower she went but she knew it was there.

Why were they both such dicks? Okay, she wasn’t the nicest either but they hadn’t done anything to earn her respect. Her thoughts burned in that general direction as she tromped between ancient flora, wishing for the life of her she’d been kidnapped by nicer people. Like yes, fine, pirates weren’t ever _good_ but she’d have enjoyed some more personable company, maybe someone who’d let her get away with her own _volatile_ behavior.

_None of this_ , from swimming in dead colonies to crashing ships, none of it had been on the agenda. Personally, she thought she’d been a very good sport about this bullshit. Plus, she’d even given the captain his stupid stick. The least they could do was loosen the leash.

Besides, it wasn’t like she could go far. Just like yesterday, each step stung a little in her ribs and she knew she’d never be able to run off, at least not from Desh, much less fight him.

And because of that temporary weakness she made sure to be aware of her surroundings, carefully eyeing the hazy horizon on her slow crawl beneath the canopy. No one was around—for being so beautiful the area sure seemed abandoned—which worked out well for them. Still, it made her reasonably nervous. Colonies, to her, were chock full of people. This was a lot different than what she’d assumed.

Despite her concerns she made it to the edge of the forest with no trouble, slowing even more only because the sight of sand (golden this time!) was humbling. It came up much quicker than she thought, dunes stretching out until they hit a wall of shimmering water. Well, it probably wasn’t a wall. Damn, she’d be so exposed out there.

That didn’t stop her from gingerly edging out onto the sand (it wasn’t her problem), leaving her boots and disgusting socks by the forest’s end as a guide post. The sand was cool on her bare skin, grains sticking between her toes in a way that made her heart swell. It was a nice feeling, one that instantly soothed all the little irritations she’d been carrying that morning.

She forgot what she was supposed to be doing here and climbed the first dune, pleased when a breeze of fresh brine and clean oxygen pushed stiff hair from her brow. Up ahead the Madalin ocean roared, a noise so natural she felt it in her bones. She took in the deepest breath she could, drinking in the endless expanse of shimmering water before her. It ended somewhere, it had to, but she couldn’t see it. It simply appeared like a vast cerulean dream, just like she’d always thought it would, and she’d never been so in love before with an inanimate object. She kind of never wanted to leave.

And she hadn’t even checked it out yet.

There was no way to understand why she did what she did, no reasonable explanation anyway, but she slid down the slope and made for the lapping shore as quickly as she could, clothes coming off in the process. It was a bit like she’d been possessed; one second she was at the top of another dune and the next her bralette was off. The next, even more came off. She had to. It just seemed natural, like she’d been needing to feel this kind of water on her skin since Alpha.

Again, no one was around, which made it even better. Paz stumbled and stumbled, water growing closer until it was at her toes and then she was splashing in, heart hammering in delight at the frigid sensation sending goosebumps across her skin. Wet sand was different than what she’d experienced on the dunes, more coarse. She didn’t care, plunging in deeper, a current in the gentle waves helping pull her further. Was that her shrieking? It was, pure delight filling her to the brim.

Dredging into the waves up to her waist she decided to dive in, submerging beneath the blue surface and letting it take her whole.

Holy—it felt _wonderful_. Her skin and bones drifted in the current, completely weightless, every speck of grime washing away in the process. That included Guinto’s touch but in the heat of the moment she didn’t care.

Opening her eyes stung but she did it regardless, way too pleased to see patterns of sparkling rings of light on the sand, each one in constant motion just like the waves above.

She stayed in her own delirious world for some time, only rising on shaky legs when she needed a breath. The waves now lapped at her chest. It was so calming, so gentle and fresh on her skin, and she wanted to stay there forever. Splashing onto her back she squinted at the periwinkle sky glimmering with Beta’s artificial stratosphere, and smiled. For the first time in a while she felt…content.

Sam would’ve loved this. One day she’d come back and take him. He’d be so impressed.

Okay, thinking about him wasn’t helping. Back to treading water, Paz tried to keep her mind on the soothing ocean, allowing it to bleed further into her soul. She enjoyed this. Beaches were everything she’d imagined, but better. Coming here was worth it, strictly for this moment. Whatever happened next, she didn’t care. She’d experienced the ocean. Well—as close as she could get to one, anyway.

Swimming wasn’t exactly her forte so at some point she did slog back to the shallows, plopping down and merely watching the waves ebb and flow from shore. Where did those waves even come from? What was on the other side? It was mesmerizing.

Just…something about being here, feeling the water push at her, was like something out of a fantasy. Wait, no—it was cleansing. That was the best way to describe it.

Yes. She no longer felt volatile. Was this…was this what people normally felt like? Just…good? Scooping up water by the palmful, she let it run over her shoulders and neck, simply thinking. There were, strangely, a lot of abstract things to suddenly ponder.

Such pondering was put on hold however when someone called her name from shore, a weird feeling climbing her spine. Hardly casting a glance over her shoulder, Paz wasn’t surprised to find Coram already on the edge of the surf, suit half unzipped with most his torso stained in now flaking blood. His face was back to that handsomely hook-nosed one, and he appeared to be grimacing.

Wouldn’t be the captain without that.

One thumb jabbed over his own shoulder. “My turn. Unless you can share.”

It was meant to get her out but Paz didn’t care. Facing forward, she shrugged indifferently. If she so happened to see his cock again that wouldn’t be the end of the universe.

What? She may not have liked the guy but she could appreciate a nice body for what it was.

“Got your mask back,” she commented, voice barely louder than the water. A moment later he splashed into the surf. Naked thighs melted in her peripheral the next moment, and then he was ahead of her, trudging against the oncoming waves like it called to him, too. Gaze following his bronze ass, she decided he definitely was a good looking guy no matter his stupidity. Even a large tattoo covering his back only enhanced his attractiveness, a map of constellations she couldn’t identify. Good thing she knew better than to fall for the bad boy look—with him, at least.

Nope, the way the water dripped off his toned body did absolutely _nothing_ for her. Honestly it was so normal she had to avert her eyes to her own lap before it grew old.

It did make her realize how awful she looked compared to him, with scars and bruises everywhere. Both knees self-consciously drew up to hide the still bright, purplish red lines on her abdomen. It wasn’t embarrassing—she just didn’t want to be compared.

He wasn’t looking, diving beneath the water once he’d drawn out deep enough at his waist. He was under for a good twenty seconds or so, only half of which made her nervous. When he re-emerged he simply stood there, absently scrubbing at the back of his head. More of his skin stung red before it got better.

“That was really stupid,” he finally remarked, twisting to return closer to her. Paz’s gaze went directly between his legs, somehow surprised his cock looked like what she vaguely remembered, and that fine dusting of dark hair around it now matted to his thighs and abdomen. Whether he noticed or cared she didn’t want to know. “You were, ah…right.”

The admission drew her focus up his sculpted torso (and also tattooed pecs) to a pained brow. Two times now he’d admitted he was wrong? That wasn’t normal, couldn’t be. Despite the smug seed growing in her stomach Paz knew he hadn’t seen another option. She’d been in his position many times—sometimes it was either electrocute yourself and get a collar off or die; keep diving into unknown water or go home, etcetera. She knew. Didn’t mean she had to be forgiving.

Her attention returned to the sea. Under Beta’s temperate sun the water’s salt was already drying off patches of skin.

“Shit happens,” she eventually answered, smirking slightly. “Worth it, though.”

That earned her an even more uncomfortable look. “What, cos you got to play in the water?”

Her smirk broadened. “Take me out dancing and I might even forget we nearly died.”

His upper lip twitched but he didn’t fully return the grin. Instead he rubbed both hands over his skull and glanced to his right, far from her. “Good to know.”

They both fell silent after that, one staring out across the blue expanse and the other carefully washing up. It took Paz way too long to notice Desh wasn’t around, not even on the shore when she took another look past her shoulder.

“Where’s your shadow?”

“Taking a breather.” _From you_. He didn’t need to say the rest for her to understand. Pleased with herself, Paz nodded.

“Good idea.” One hand swooshed through the incoming water. “He know how hard we hit?”

“Nope.”

Hmm. She would’ve told her own crew about that, if she had one.

Coram sloshed a couple steps closer, muscles taut. “Look, I…” When she glanced up she saw he was rethinking what he wished to say, frowning in thought. After a beat he simply swore under his breath, forging ahead as he clasped his neck. “I’m not gonna lie—I need to know what happened on Alpha. I know you’re pissy with us—with me—but you… _smelled_ like Hyleris when we picked you up. That’s my home, Topaz. We can do this the hard or easy way but I gotta know.”

Mm, until he’d gotten to the threatening bit she’d nearly considered caving. Besides, he hadn’t answered _her_ previously when she’d asked him what he knew so…

“You made me go,” she carelessly remarked, making to rise to her feet. It was going to take a second. “ _You_ decided to make someone else go in. I got you what you asked for. Ye, there was some shit down there you’d probably get a boner over but you weren’t there so tough luck.”

And she’d stop there but his face was red and she had so many more things to bitch about. Wobbling only slightly she quickly added, “Also, you’re a fucking liar. Those sticks aren’t some cultural antiques or whatever and you knew it. You gave me that dumb-ass story about us evolving or some bullshit and I know that’s not true—that’s not even possible! So why the fuck would I tell _you_ what happened, who I _met_ down there when honestly it’s probably not a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?” he softly wondered, tone surprisingly calm despite the obvious loathing in his features. Paz huffed. There were many reasons; listing them gave him information though and she really wasn’t into cooperating. She sloshed off, back to deeper waters.

“Pretty sure you know why. You could’ve gone but you didn’t—you sent me. _You_ missed your chance so sorry, you don’t get the breakdown.”

“Why _not_?” She could feel how vexed he was, which only made her more happy to taunt, happy to push that anger.

“Because you’re a murdering asshole, you motherfucker! I don’t _need_ another reason!”

_That_ pissed him off. He nearly grabbed her but she’d heard him coming, sidling out of the way and twirling to dispense a rude gesture. Oh, he looked so furious. Paz stuck her tongue out for good measure, pushing away when he tried again. She wasn’t so lucky when he lunged forward, crashing into her and sending them both beneath crisp sea foam.

At that point she’d grabbed onto him and suddenly it was a pathetic struggle, both kicking and wiggling in an attempt to be free. With her sore ribs and his injured head it wasn’t that violent, but still petty. When she bit into his shoulder he did let go, a rush of bubbles leaving his mouth. Successfully kicking him off, Paz burst to the surface and gasped for air, arms flailing as she slogged away. Coram popped up several meters away, spluttering and blindly spinning to search for her. She was already on her way to shore, a hand holding her side like it might keep everything together.

“Come at me again and see what happens,” she hoarsely hollered, all those good feelings the ocean had brought having vanished. Nope, now all she could think of was his hard body pressing up against hers, grappling with her like he might (and probably would) win if given enough time. “I fucking _dare_ you! You don’t get to ask anything beyond what we agreed to and if you’ve got a problem with that then you should’ve been more specific!”

She didn’t get very far on the damp sand, collapsing just a few paces past the lapping waves and rolling to her better side, eyes shut as blinding pain seared through her chest. Ye, she’d just dared someone to a fight but that’d been in the heat of the moment. Right now curling up was all she could think of.

“I’m trying you help you!” he yelled as he came ashore, too, one palm clapped over his marked shoulder. “The least you could fucking do is return the favor.”

_Help_? Laughing hurt but she did so anyway, the sound turning into a groan. “Oh, _fuck_ you.” Damn, her lowest rib was doing that popping thing again. “Tch, _help_!”

He snarled in the other direction, refusing to continue arguing, which was a shame because she could go on for hours. It was a talent, unfortunately. Sand was kicked, and then a shadow was over her, droplets of ocean and blood catching on her curled knees. She didn’t need to look to know he towered over her.

“Fine,” he spat between heavy breaths. “Go ahead and keep everything to yourself. You’re right, it’s probably nothing I didn’t already know. Just—would’ve been _nice_ to share it with someone who might fucking believe it. Just once.”

He sort of had a point. Returning to her back, Paz tried to breathe normally. Both hands clutched beneath her breasts. “Ye, well, I’m not playing. Sorry.”

“ _Sorry_.” The shadow moved while he muttered. “You say that a lot. Pretty sure you’ve never meant it in your life.”

That wasn’t true. She’d meant it plenty of times. Maybe not for him but she had meant it. Once.

This wasn’t negotiable. Who cared if he might know some things? Or might at least believe what she’d experienced? He was still a dick. He’d just tried tackling her for fuck’s sake!

And yet…

Okay, maybe he was a teeny bit correct.

Fine, _fine_. She could be civil, sometimes. Huffing, she snapped open both eyes and glared at him. “There was a Hylerian down there— _two_ in fact. One was pretty much dead out of cryo and the other…they got me out of Alpha. They’re who kept Nav ships busy for you. And I let them go. I said it was okay to kick their ass. So there. Don’t say I never helped you.”

The roar of the ocean met her admission, along with a heavy thud from nearby as Coram sat to her left. His body was loose, gaze unfocused on the water. He looked…ill.

“You let him go.”

“They wanted to meet you,” she softly answered, “but there was no time.”

“Where were they from? Who was it? Where’d he get that ship?”

Right. Coram was the walking tablet on Hylerian lineage. Paz relaxed best she could, a shiver drawing over her shoulders. “You wouldn’t know them.”

All the sudden that loose body went taut and he looked like he wanted to sock her all over again. “I fucking know every—”

“They came out of pre-Nav cryo, dude,” she interrupted, hackles rising just as quickly. “Think on that.”

Indeed he did, taking his time before he spoke again. When he did his adam’s apple bobbed. “And…he told you what happened? To us?”

One hand swiped over her eyes before honing in on him. “Wasn’t a ‘ _he_ ’. Wasn’t human. _We’re_ not entirely human.” While his own striking eyes widened she sighed. “I let a native alien loose on the Nav, Coram. You guys would’ve liked each other. I’m sorry they couldn’t stay. I mean it.”

Because she wished Guinto had stayed. Guinto would’ve put the other Hylerians in their place. Guinto would’ve given her support. Guinto might also decimate the entire Nav if given the chance (she hoped that wasn’t the case, but she hoped the Hylerian hadn’t died, either).

Hmm. Putting Guinto with Coram…maybe that wasn’t such a great idea.

“When you came back you smelled just like it,” the captain admitted in a drawl, throat still bobbling. He wouldn’t look her way, studying anything that wasn’t her, actually “Just like home. I thought—thought it was the artifact. Maybe the other shit you stole. Turns out you…met one. A real one.”

Met and _hugged_ , though she’d keep that to herself. Swallowing her ire she slowly pushed upright, wincing slightly. “Did you see the ship when we left? Was it still intact?”

He barely shrugged, thoughts elsewhere. “Dunno. We could barely see it as it was.” Then he frowned, appearing offended. His gaze slid to her legs, the only thing he could stand looking at apparently. “Was it really so hard telling me this?”

No, but she was just as stubborn as him and she didn’t have time for that kind of conversation.

“You’re not my captain. Not my master, not my friend—nothing. All you are is some dick who’s making me do his dirty work. Why the fuck would I _ever_ tell you anything?”

Ocean eyes snapped to his own feet, toes coated in sand. Though his jaw looked hard his tone was barely above a whisper as he said, “I dunno.”

Which was, honestly, a rather muted response. Paz still bristled. Still hunched as far as she could go, ribs be damned.

“I’m here so I can go home,” she reiterated, just in case he’d forgotten. “That’s it. Don’t…you’re not getting more from me.”

He had the gal to utter a bitter laugh. “You’re such a good slave, Topaz. Don’t worry; we’ll get you home soon enough, most likely alive.”

What a rude thing to say. Despite that, she couldn’t help feeling the truth in what he insinuated. She hated…hated he was right. She tried to think of a good comeback but floundered, nothing clever coming to mind besides the obvious.

“People would pay good credits for someone like me.”

“That’s the problem,” he grimly commented, groaning as he returned to his feet, stretching at the same time. By now Paz wasn’t even curious about his physique. She hardly noticed him until several tan fingers waved in her peripheral. Looking up, she found him waiting with his palm stretched to her. He’d put on his emotionless mask once more.

“Let’s go. Gotta get you home, ye?”

Right. Putting her own feelings aside, she accepted the help and stiffly rose, the ocean becoming that much more enormous for just a moment. Soon as she was up she yanked free, back to him and the water as she quickly retreated toward the forest, hoping her clothes were still where she’d left them.


	31. Ch 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paz: *trying her best to just get through this BS*
> 
> Me: Mmm, let's sprinkle on some sexual frustration?

Slowly, oh so slowly, the forest eventually pittered out and gave way to more colonized swaths of land. Centurion Beta’s farmland was a huge band surrounding the colony—Paz had seen its other side from Beta’s docks. Currently, it was the last obstacle before the actual colony which was great because the three Hylerians had been walking all day and none of them were in a very good mood. The change of scenery was nice.

Even nicer when Coram stole a rover from a quiet maize farm, turning their tiring slog into a quick zip through a picturesque landscape. This way she could at least look around. If, you know, she wasn’t so tired, which she was.

Paz had never been so down and out before, not without some kind of real injury to show for it. And while she’d thought that put Coram in the same position she’d been wrong. He seemed fine, deftly winding through fields of endless crops or on rural roads which felt absolutely unpopulated. Desh now slept in the passenger seat, the only one lucky enough to really get some rest. She, of course, was in the back with their things. Except their weapons. Those sat in Desh’s lap, Guinto’s gun included. She was a little jealous.

Which was why she’d spent most of her time dazedly watching massive agriculture productions pass and attempting to pull up a comm she didn’t recognize or understand. It wasn’t like she was going to engage the captain. Besides, if they were headed into Beta then she kind of wanted to hide her face. The Nav _lived_ in Beta. She wasn’t exactly excited about them finding her.

She’d never worn mods, never seen a reason to, but comms could put up a flimsy excuse for mods if one had enough credits. Her meager credits were tied to her other comm, true, so she was kind of hoping Guinto’s comm wouldn’t care about something like credits. Maybe, if she was lucky, it’d be just like her old one and she wouldn’t have to try figuring out anything too complicated. Seriously, she barely knew how to use her own beyond pings and media. Anything else and she’d usually just ask someone else (mainly Sam) how to do it.

Trying to bring up an internal display proved incredibly difficult, unfortunately. It clearly worked if she was getting translations (which was great because Desh couldn’t covertly insult her any longer) yet nothing else came up, or even indicated there was something _to_ pull up. Was that all it was? A translator? She’d been at it for hours, searching for anything and coming up with absolutely nothing.

Ugh, every time she growled she knew Coram was glancing back, silently judging her…behavior? She wasn’t sure, but she refused to acknowledge him. He’d tried taking her down. The second she felt better she’d pay him back.

_Focus, goddamnit_.

Right. She’d think about socking those pretty turquoise eyes later, when she wasn’t busy trying to do the impossible. And yet, that was all she could think of even as rows upon rows of crops whizzed by. Sure, it was a nice view, but that face she couldn’t stand and was a mere meter or so away filled her mind instead. It had to be because she’d seen his cock earlier, had to be. Elsewise there was no reason he kept occupying her thoughts.

When was the last time she’d gotten laid? Since Sam? That had to be it. _Why_ couldn’t Coram be someone else? Paz had very low standards—she could deal with a lot of issues but no, he had to be a dick about everything. Glistening muscles or not, she couldn’t forget that.

Well. There was no harm in imagining that fine body of his tangling with hers, those muscular thighs keeping hers spread wide, sweat mingling while he pulled her against him and hissed sultry promises in her ear. Mm…ye, no harm in thinking about it. She could keep the thoughts in her head separate from reality.

She didn’t know she’d dozed off until the rover jerked to a stop and she banged her head on the back window. Swearing (for several reasons), Paz winced and rolled over, rubbing her tender skull with one hand and searching for her backpack with the other. What had she been doing? Man, every muscle was stiff, like she’d been running around for ages and sleeping on the ground. Was that normal?

“We’ll walk in from here,” Coram was saying from up front, already pushing out the rover. Still blinking away sleep, Paz checked out the window to see leaves everywhere. He’d hidden them _in_ a shrub of some kind from the look of it. At least he knew how to hide them. “Outskirts on this side aren’t as monitored, so we’ll take advantage of that and work in through a guy I know.”

“Rahm?” Desh guessed, Coram’s quick, unenthused grunt an apparent confirmation. Contorting herself, Paz attempted crawling out after the captain’s second.

“We’ll regroup at his spot,” Coram continued, voice going distant. He’d already slipped out of the shrubs. “Clean up, eat, contact home…that sort of business. Then, if it’s not too hot, start scouting for ships. Shouldn’t be more n’ a couple days.”

Honestly most of that sounded perfectly fine to Paz. She had no real qualms as she spilled out the rover and onto soft, uneven grass. One ankle rolled but she stumbled successfully, grabbing onto the rover’s green-painted side and flashing a loose grin in Desh’s direction. He’d get a kick out of her struggle.

He didn’t even frown. Instead he stared at her with super wide eyes, chest inflating like he was about to scream. Paz glanced about, stomach seizing in worry. What was he so worked up about?

“Sound good?” Coram called from elsewhere. His voice snapped Desh out of whatever’d made him panic and the other Hylerian blinked, nodding first at Paz and then in the direction of Coram’s voice. She’d balk and protest but he’d already grabbed her by the shoulder, shoving her around the rover. Unless she felt like eating dirt and grass she had no choice in the matter.

“Dude, I’m going,” she insisted under her breath, ducking beneath sticky boughs heavy with foliage and staggering out into Beta’s warm, waning light. “No need to herd me.”

“Look at this,” Desh loudly called over her, making her cringe. What if someone was around? He didn’t stop pushing until Coram’s back came into view, the captain surveying a hazy city-scape in the distance. “Fucking look at this.”

The other Hylerian didn’t seem too bothered, taking his time turning about with both hands on his hips. By then Desh had a grip on the back of her shirt and held her in place before him. Coram took one look at her and doubled over. His snickering wasn’t reassuring to either of them. Confused, Paz craned her neck to offer Desh her best sneer.

“The fuck is wrong with him? What’s wrong?”

“Your face,” Coram choked out, attempting to recompose himself. Her eyes rolled back to him, watching him straighten and cover his own eyes. There was no holding back his genuine smile though, teeth brilliant. “Topaz, why do you look like me?”

…What? Paz shifted her weight, heart sinking. “Uh, what?”

“You have his face,” Desh repeated, as if she hadn’t heard. “ _His_ face.”

Both hands flew up, fingers sliding down her cheeks and nose. It still…felt the same, but it was longer. Holy—her hands were darker, just a bit, like what she knew resided under his mods. Paz grabbed a salt-dried lock of hair, dropping it soon as she caught sight of dark strands.

While she sank to her ass in mortification (because she knew exactly how she’d gotten _his_ face), Coram devolved into more laughter. Apparently this was the most hilarious thing he’d ever seen. Fantastic.

“Look pretty good for a girl,” he remarked, catching his breath. “Don’t you think, Desh?”

While Desh grumbled he in fact thought the exact opposite, Paz kept both hands over her new face, hiding the heat staining her cheeks. _How_ the fuck had Guinto’s comm done it? All she’d done was think about the captain, and it hadn’t really been over his real face. She wanted to scream—well, scream, then claw it off and start fresh, but how? She didn’t know how to make it change or disappear.

Alright, not even the beach was worth this kind of torture.

“I’ve never had mods before,” she groused into her palms, “and this is what I get. _Fuck_.”

“You’ve never worn them?” the captain casually asked, wandering over to put her in his shadow. “Hmm. I assumed Val would’ve been all for them.”

“Ye, well, she wasn’t,” Paz groaned, hunching further. At least she didn’t look like herself. The Nav probably wasn’t looking for a shorter version (and entirely different body) of him, too, so there was that. Still…she had to wear the face of a douchebag. She groaned louder, eliciting more laughter.

“You look good,” the captain touted, toeing closer. She could feel his hand outstretched and waiting to pick her back up. As if she’d ever touch him again. “Come on.”

“I don’t know how this happened,” she semi-lied, dropping her fingers and clamoring upright on her own. “I mean, ye, I was trying to make a mod, but not this.”

“Then take off your comm,” Desh snipped, warily adjusting their things on his person. “Should fix it.”

“It’s not coming out,” she snapped back, stepping around them to check out the distant city as well. It was the last thing on her mind but she could pretend she was focused. “It’s not like a helmet.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Both men went quiet, any hint of Coram’s humor gone as he came up behind her.

“You get this from your friend?” he asked, voice hard. Paz’s shoulders sagged and she started down a grassy knoll toward a nearby road. She wasn’t having this argument again with him.

“Look, man—I just covered your ass,” she tiredly reasoned, trudging ahead. “Seems to me _you_ pointed out I’m being looked for, so I found a way to hide myself. Rather not deal with the Nav, either. Not after what happened.”

“Gotta tell us at some point.” The captain was following her, traipsing several steps behind. How ironic she currently led. Desh’s mutter to leave it be seemed smart, though Coram didn’t listen. “It’d make things a lot easier.”

“Mm, nah. Recounting my grand adventure only benefits _you_ , so drop it.”

“Please,” Desh added, both on the same page for one, even if it was for differing reasons. Asshole that he was he was still more reasonable.

Amazingly, this time Coram did listen. He grunted something, long legs easily pushing ahead of Paz. One arm pointed away from the road to a ditch sloping down an embankment but still leading toward the colony.

“We don’t take roads,” he moodily explained. “Not yet.”

“We don’t take roads,” she mocked in a soft hiss, just as moodily following him. At least behind her Desh huffed in wry amusement.

He was definitely the more reasonable one.


	32. Ch 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They make it into Beta, and secrets bleeeeeeeeeeed out.

They started seeing real, actual people well after they’d ditched the (mostly dry) ditch. It was nightfall by then, Beta going much darker than Paz thought possible with the exception of the bright city ahead. Coram skirted along the border, taking them close but not into the city, which was apparently fine if Desh wasn’t making pointed remarks. Oh no, he headed into what looked like the slums first.

Sandwiched between the two for most of their long journey, Paz was happy to see other people once they emerged into a maze of cramped, messy alleys. People were everywhere, all of them a little scrappy looking but that was fine—they _had_ waded in the slums, which was somehow a thing here. She hadn’t thought Beta had slums. No one from the colony ever gave her the impression it was anything less than perfect. Despite that, she was simply happy to be there, slums or ditches.

This was Beta. _She_ was in a colony. Not just the docks but inside the real deal. She’d always wanted to come here and now…now she was finally within its true borders. Not as shiny as she’d pictured, but just as good, and filled with real, Federation-born people.

No one paid attention to them, either. Even as Coram led them through the confusing mess of traffic-choked roads, with tall tenements pressing tightly around them, she felt at home and unbothered by the locals. They seriously couldn’t care less about two incredibly tall guys dictating a girl around. If she were in any other situation than what she was that’d be disappointing, but for now it was for the best.

To be honest she shouldn’t have expected anything else. The Nav was headquartered here. Who would dare try trafficking in Beta, even in the slums? It wasn’t like Tauri where anything went and nobody questioned a thing. Now _that_ was a near lawless place.

No, to Paz the slums were familiar, and home, especially here. This was what she’d been raised to find normal. Huge advertisements for products and shows she’d nearly forgotten about were plastered on walls at random, mixing garishly in neon lighting with drab buildings and people shuffling around in equally dour fashions. The air was spiced with all kinds of mouthwatering smells—it was definitely time to eat—and she had to be pushed along several times, mostly when she lingered too long in front of gaudy stalls hawking cheap food and goods. Desh clearly wasn’t as impressed, hustling her onward like none of Beta could possibly be interesting.

Tch, she didn’t care what he and Coram thought—Beta was the pinnacle of the Federation. She was going to enjoy it however she could.

Every corner they turned and block the captain drew them down reminded her however of Sam. No particular reason why, just…this probably would’ve been his home if he’d lived in a colony. He likely still did have family out there somewhere, maybe even here. He used to speculate about it but the past couple years he’d ceased, more occupied with making lotus and using their time together to do more than just…talk.

Had she prevented him from leaving Val? It was a dumb thought but she wondered about it anyway. Would he have managed on his own if he hadn’t been stuck worrying over her? Or would Val just keep increasing the amount of credits required in exchange for his autonomy? Would he have even been on the Osiris if it weren’t for her?

She knew the answer to that and was admittedly ashamed. Worse, however, she was secretly glad it’d happened. He’d still been sold to Val. If Val hadn’t bought him someone else would’ve and there were much, _much_ worse owners out there than Val.

She promptly stopped thinking about him when Coram guided them between two cramped buildings, down a steep yet short stairwell that ended in front of a secured, nondescript door. Anywhere else it’d blend in with the scenery but there were no lights down here and once again it was just the three of them all crammed together at the grated landing. Down here it was very clear Coram had taken them to this door for a reason. He was practically pressed against the heavy metal as he knocked several times, fist soft on the surface in a defined pattern.

For a long moment nothing happened. Anxious, Paz jittered one foot and swiveled around to watch the empty steps, avoiding Desh’s unhappy presence. He looked tired, too. If he was haggard then she really didn’t want to know what she looked like, and not just because of the new face.

All three of them seemed to get the same feeling in tandem, a distinct presence ghosting over their senses just before the door clicked open. Paz turned around to glimpse an equally haggard face filling a slight crack in the doorway. Pitch black seeped from behind him, nearly blending in with dark hair pulled back in a short bun and a scruffy beard. Gold eyes glinted keenly over the party, and then the man grinned to show off strong teeth.

Paz couldn’t help frowning. He looked nearly exactly like Coram’s current mods minus the extra hair, a flatter nose, and lighter irises. He was Hylerian, too. Had to be. _They_ could’ve been brothers if she didn’t know any better.

“Can I help you?” the grinning dude asked, door never opening any wider, not yet. Paz watched Coram’s back straighten as he shifted on his feet.

“I heard this was a good place for the view?”

Was he serious? Her eyes rolled in disgust—Reeser had used near the same line in Daysturis. That was their code, apparently, and she’d been stupid enough to think it was actually for deals.

Grinning Dude stuck his head out a littler further, surveying the captain’s party. He was shorter than Coram, just a bit. His gaze moved to her, grin turning a little lopsided.

“Never knew you had a sister.”

“I don’t,” Coram firmly rebuked while she visibly gagged. Laughing brightly, the man slid the door open and beckoned them inside.

It was indeed dark as they entered. Paz kept close to Coram only because she didn’t know where they were going. Desh of course kept her company, hand now holding onto her backpack like she might zip off. She allowed it, for now, diving into the dark with low expectations. Couldn’t be worse than Fiala’s estate. It just couldn’t. Or Alpha. Well, actually, that hadn’t been too terrible. Tedious, yes, but not nearly as life-threatening. Not like crashing into Beta.

Lights flickered on overhead once they’d moved from grates to solid concrete beneath their boots. Grinning Dude moved around them to gesture at a large room filled with mismatched furnishings, containers, and…walls decorated in old Nav propaganda. That bit was unexpected.

“Oh,” she taunted, eyes swiveling to Desh—he was the closest victim. “You guys must hate this. _Fly to your destiny_? _Exploration awaits_? Tch, shouldn’t you be tearing that shit down?”

While Desh’s face soured it was Grinning Dude who answered. “I collect them, dear. Think of them as…war trophies.”

She wasn’t dumb enough to think that wasn’t a threat. Flashing her teeth right back at the dude, Paz shut up after that. No need to get them kicked out so soon.

“I heard some business went down at Alpha,” the dude lightly remarked, taking his pick of seats and flopping down on a dinghy white couch to their right. Coram didn’t bother with chairs, dropping to the concrete with a long exhale. “Nav’s been on high alert for a couple days now.”

“It did,” the captain replied, idly rubbing over his jaw. “You get any numbers? It was bad but—we had help.”

Grinning Dude’s already bright eyes lit up more and he jutted his chin at Paz. Paz, for the record, still awkwardly stood by in the middle of the room with Desh at her back. She was busy glaring at him. When had he become _her_ shadow?

“Dude, go sit down or something,” she hissed, her own glare met with his. “I don’t need a nanny.” Behind them Coram launched into a short explanation of the fight on Alpha. It was a little one-sided but whatever, she wasn’t interested. Besides, Desh’s brows were raised like he was offended.

“ _You_ sit down,” he hissed back, head tilting leftward at an even dingier red chaise. “This is important.”

Ah yes, important things were always discussed in dungeon-like accommodations. Her glare narrowed. “I’m _fine_ right here. You’re making us look bad.”

“You’re doing that on your own,” he insisted, voice quieter than before. Paz’s eyes went wide, all sorts of mean comments bubbling to the surface. That essentially was an invitation to play. He’d never interact with her unless there was literally nothing better to do.

“Okay,” she quipped, one arm spread wide. “I’ll sit. But you better find somewhere else. I’m not sharing.”

The look he directed at her practically screamed he wished they’d left her on Alpha.

Someone cleared their throat and they both turned their attention to Coram and the other guy. Both men stared back, one appropriately pained and the other pleasantly amused. The amused one spread his legs out, both arms draping over the couch’s back.

“What’s your name, dear?”

Coram hadn’t mentioned that yet? She fluttered her eyelashes and offered a pretty smile. It probably didn’t look right on this face but she could try and charm her way to friendship. It worked most the time.

“Paz,” she sweetly answered, standing a little straighter, too. “Currently not here of my own free will but it’s fine.”

The fact she could feel two angry pairs of eyes on her meant she’d done a great job thus far antagonizing the captain and his second. Good. Their host blinked, his grin broadening.

“Interesting. And where are you from, Paz? What led you to my shop?”

This didn’t look like a shop, though that wasn’t relevant. Pouting, she put forth an apologetic shrug. “Mm, sorry. I don’t give those kinds of details to strangers.”

“Apologies.” Arms dropping, he smoothly pushed off the couch to stand before her, one hand already out. Paz’s gaze flicked from his head to toe even as he finished. “I’m Rahm. Former crew mate of your companions, currently living a simple life in the shadow of my enemy.”

When he shook her hand she realized he had a strong, very strong, grip, and his smile was dazzling up close. She was smitten but something about his answer made her frown. “You worked with them?”

He held her hand firm, looking her over just as much. “Different ranks, of course. Didn’t know they were into holding people captive, either.” Focus off her a moment he raised a pointed brow at Coram. “This _is_ recent, ye?”

Coram had the sense to shut his eyes, tiredly rubbing them. “I’ll explain later. We have an arrangement—she’s going back to where she came from.”

“And home is where…?” Rahm wanted to know, curious golden gaze returning to her. Somehow, Paz couldn’t help keeping her pretty smile, just like she kept her hand in his. It felt nice. Like someone was genuinely interested in her, even if it was predatory. She could be predatory, too.

“No one’s ever asked me that,” she demurred, hips slightly swaying. “My papers say Karkinos, but I call a ship home. Not theirs, obviously.”

“You’re a nomad, then,” he confirmed, a glint coming to those attractive eyes. “And if you’re with these two I assume you’ve earned their respect. Hylerians don’t very often take kindly to Fed-borns.”

It took Paz a second to understood he thought a regular citizen lay behind her mask. She snorted, bashfully pulling her hand free and stepping back—right into Desh. Ugh, could he be more annoying? To Rahm however she shook her head. “Oh—no. They picked me up cos I’m…you know, just such a special Hylerian and all. I’d show you my face—much better than this one to be honest—but I’m having…difficulties with my comm.”

“They break it?” He was really good at this guessing business. Paz found herself blushing a little, nodding.

“Uh, ye, but I mean…I’ve got another. Just don’t know how to…use it yet.”

The slightly serious look he’d adopted softened beautifully. When she eyed his close face she noted bumps, scars, and moles dotting his skin. This was his real face. It was so much better than the fake one Coram wore.

“You’re in luck, dear,” he remarked, hands moving to his pockets. “I happen to run a tech shop. I can try and fix it for you, if you’d like.”

Was he flirting? Paz wasn’t sure but she liked his smooth tone. It was so sweet, so clearly meant to lower her guard. She’d have to watch out for him.

“Do _not_ fix it,” Coram overruled, lurching to his feet. So much for any of them taking a break. “It’ll return to her once she’s with her own—crew.”

“Her other one, then,” Rahm decided, as if he were above Coram’s orders. He probably was. This only encouraged Paz to nod, beaming at their host.

“Please. I have no idea how it works.”

Rahm whipped to the captain. “And if Miss Paz doesn’t know how it works then how do you know if you’re not being traced as we speak? Really, Coram—seems you’ve gone a bit lax.”

Oh, she _really_ liked Rahm.

Head dropping, Coram glared at the floor. “Do as you’d like, then. Can we clean up, or do you want us to keep watching whatever this is?”

“Go ahead,” Rahm allowed, mouth twitching with pleasure. He still watched her, taking her apart with his eyes, like he already knew what lay beneath.

Something deep down in her belly coiled and she knew exactly what she’d like to do with him here soon.

“I’ll take a look at her comm,” he continued, taking charge. “You two clean up—my supplies are yours. We’ll convene shortly and figure out the rest of your plans. Long as you can behave…my home is yours, gentlemen.”

Much as he’d been jonesing to come here, Coram didn’t look too pleased as he shoved away, muttering something under his breath. He stalked off in the opposite direction down a dimly lit hall she hadn’t seen earlier, Desh curtly following soon after. This left Paz alone with Rahm, who didn’t step closer but sure did appear ready to devour her. She was perfectly fine with that (preferably after a shower, maybe) but the other two were fine with this? They clearly trusted him a great deal.

He waited until a door slammed shut elsewhere, then leaned just a tad bit forward before nodding beyond her shoulders. “Well Miss Paz, shall we?”

As if she’d refuse.

A brief tour of his subterranean home later, Paz found herself sitting upon a normal enough looking exam table in a sterile shop-room, lights warm as they burned overhead. Rahm stood with his back to her a couple meters away, picking tools out of a meticulously organized cabinet. He’d been pleasantly flirtatious on the way here and avoided any hard questions, making her comfortable in his presence. Far as she was concerned, he and the others were nothing alike, even if they all stood on the same side.

“So you have an _arrangement_ ,” he teased, turning to her with a few docile looking tools in his left palm. Glancing up at her, Rahm raised a mockingly skeptical eyebrow.

Shy all the sudden, Paz kept her knees closed and gave a small smile. “Trust me, I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

He chuckled, setting his things next to her thigh. “A shame. Hopefully this will make it easier to deal with. Those two aren’t the most…personable, though I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

Coram could be personable when he was lying to her face and distracting her with sex, but that clearly wasn’t applicable any longer. She suspected both, actually, were a lot nicer to their crew. They had a problem with her, and for good reason. She didn’t exactly make a good teammate.

Glancing down at her hands, both folded in her lap, she admitted, “I’m not easy to get along with, either.”

“Doubt that,” Rahm generously assured, making her all warm and fuzzy. He played a really good game. How old was he? Did she care? Not particularly. He was attractive. He did, she noted, have a larger build but it suited him nicely.

It’d been a while, alright? She was a little starved of physical affection and her company was off limits so anything available would do.

“Let’s see,” he started, turning to the business at hand, gaze becoming neutral and keen as it worked over her. “So they broke your comm but you received another one. Like, one on top of the other? Or external hardware?”

The way he scanned her she knew he was looking for an external model. She pressed her shoulder blades together to enhance her chest.

“It’s…complicated. It’s in me. But it’s not…not where I think it’s supposed to be.”

He fought an entertained smile. “From personal experience I’m sure it’s in the right spot if it’s sort of working.”

“Barely,” she added, slumping. The shirt she’d been issued days ago on the Lakai did nothing to accentuate her figure. “I mean, the translator is. And…my face, I guess. I didn’t mean for it to look like this. It just happened.”

She could feel his gentle laughter as he leaned in, one palm sliding up her neck and behind an ear. Her heart rate picked up, though he carefully pretended his digits weren’t over her pulse.

“Hmm. Where’s the original?”

Both shoulders hunched. “Um…probably behind an ear? I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“It’s been a long time.”

At least he took her ignorance in stride, gingerly prodding about on both sides of her skull, tapping confidently at a soft spot behind her right ear. “Old one’s right here. It feels like a…Deos model.”

She’d had it implanted there. Surprised, Paz studied his incredibly close face. “You can tell? They’re different?”

“Each quadrant makes theirs a little differently,” he explained, drawing back to look at his tools. “Course, you can get anything on the black market. What about the new one?”

Growing sheepish, she opened her mouth and pointed to the back of her throat. “Ah, in here.”

He went still, eyeing her mouth as if it were a trick. “Ah…really?”

“Really.”

He took in a deep breath, already stepping toward a sink in one corner. “Let me wash my hands, then.”

With his hands clean he returned and she opened her mouth even wider, head tipped back. He joked about it, which made her more comfortable, and soon he was shining a small light into her esophagus, clucking to himself like he’d _definitely_ seen something like this before.

“So…how does one have a comm jammed in their throat?” He was still poking with a metal compression stick so she waited until he’d pulled out, taking a moment to hack and cough.

“I got it from a friend. They installed it.”

“And you just…let them?”

She giggled—actually giggled. “I asked for it.”

His brows raised, taking her in like this was the first time he was actually seeing her. “You don’t seem bothered with stranger’s fingers down your throat, so I _guess_ that’s plausible.”

She kept giggling. Ugh, she probably looked so stupid. Trying to maintain some sense of credibility she pressed a finger beneath her jaw. “This isn’t normal then, ye? Do you still think you could, I dunno, jigger it to work? I just can’t see any displays.”

Glancing about, Rahm pulled over a work stool and plopped down. He scooted between her now open legs, appearing a bit…unsure. She opened her mouth again as he turned on the little light in his right hand.

“Honestly? I’ll try. I’ve seen all kinds of comms but nothing like this. Still…might as well give it a go. It can’t be _that_ different.”

It seemed like it was what with how many tools he poked over her wiggling tongue, spending near an hour prodding at what he could apparently see of the comm while her jaw and neck ached. They were mostly quiet, Rahm working as quickly and efficiently as he could. Every so often he’d utter a phallic joke and she’d choke a bit.

In between, however, he did tell her a little about being a co-captain on a ship Coram and Desh both joined, which was the most she’d heard about the two in the past month or so. They were indeed pirates yet, as she’d heard, they packed a mean hate-boner for the Nav. The previous ship they’d worked on was also crewed by a Hylerian force dedicated to targeting and picking off Nav patrols in parts of Fed space which Rahm was too clever to identify. After a particularly bad retaliatory attack Coram and Desh left to start their own cell, eventually forming the Lakai and taking what they’d learned to new levels while Rahm apparently decided to disappear and retire.

Now Coram’s team led one of the final all-Hylerian crews, with only two or three other ships Rahm could list off. He seemed comfortable telling her all this due to the fact she couldn’t ask questions, which was fair (she’d already forgotten the immediate questions coming to mind while he screwed with the comm). By the time he’d finished with his little history she’d grown bored. It wasn’t like she was interested in tracking down the dwindling numbers of a failed cause.

Look, she understood the Hylerian plight; she totally did. Coram hunted down the Nav because they’d wronged his people and the Nav retaliated because they could and would definitely win. Trying to fight back was inevitable; honorable, even. It was just it seemed a little excessive trying to destroy the ultimate authority in the Federation. If they were the last Hylerians around then why didn’t they negotiate with the Nav, or the Federation? It was too late now (obviously) but this hostile relationship didn’t need to have happened. Things could’ve been different.

And…she understood her status wasn’t anything to brag about, but she’d had a purpose with Val. So what if the Nav was pushing them into the Federation with limited rights? Maybe they needed something like that to tone down their volatility. Maybe keeping Hylerians contained was for the best, because the other option seemed to be putting them down.

She’d never say that shit aloud, well aware Coram would tell her she’d been trained to think like that. As if she couldn’t form her own opinions. What a joke.

But if she thought about it too long she…knew this hypothetical version of him was correct. She hadn’t come up with that. Val had, as had Sam. But they’d taught her these things for a reason. She knew they had. She’d been so erratic, so awful as a child. She’d have done anything to make herself fit in, so she’d _needed_ someone to oversee what she did. Needed it.

And so she’d begun to believe what they’d told her on the Osiris.

Ugh. No. No, they’d done it to help her live in Fed space, nothing more. Fuck the Lakai. There was nothing wrong with how she’d grown up. _They_ were the ones poking at the cops, even Rahm to an extent, though he sounded like he was done with his pirating days. No, now he hid from the Nav in their own home, watching their movements and sending this information on to the other crews when he could. Why he felt comfortable telling her about _that_ was beyond her but she was at his mercy, beginning to wish he’d never volunteered to take a look at the comm.

“Gotta say, Miss Paz,” he confessed, withdrawing and scooting back when she whined uncomfortably (she’d been extraordinarily well-behaved while he worked), “this is a lot more different than I thought.”

Jaw quivering, Paz let it hang loose while she rubbed at her sore skin. She didn’t know what to say about that, nor did she want to talk in general. Besides the obvious part where it hurt, what was she supposed to say? She certainly wasn’t going to ask more about Coram or Desh. They’d been trained in the art of fighting the Nav; she didn’t need to know more. Rahm, she figured, she could know more about but it likely was a lot like what he’d said about the other Hylerians.

In front of her, Rahm idly fiddled with a miniature pick, eyelids lowered in thought. “I opened up what I could. Care to try bringing up your display?”

Right. That was the whole reason for his messing around. Slumping back until she hit the wall, Paz tiredly shut her eyes. It didn’t actually do much but she’d always found it helped her focus. Okay, when she usually pulled up her comm she’d…wake it up from the right. Both eyeballs swiveled in that direction, hoping at least something would be—

“Holy fuck,” she gasped, jaw cracking with the movement. She couldn’t care less however, not when an entirely new display emerged from the deep purples and greens of her eyelids. Everything outside of that display ceased to exist, not while she stared at it with the amazement of a child. There it was, like it’d never disappeared in the first place, with a few minor tweaks here and there. Even as Rahm asked excited questions she couldn’t pay attention, too absorbed in the new icons and menus coming to her in flurry of commands.

She had a comm. A real, live, comm. It wasn’t her old one, that she eventually came to realize, but the new one definitely belonged to her. It was like it’d been organized exactly for someone with her attention span and sure, there were no contacts, no ways to connect this one to the Fed comm network, but it was something. Everything was easy to access even if she didn’t know what half it was or recognized the styling. Was there music? Ye, but nothing she recognized. She didn’t care; she’d look into that later. For now she kind of wanted to cry.

She didn’t though, breaking into the best smile she could muster and focusing on Rahm after the initial amazement wore off.

“Well?” he tentatively inquired, appearing pensive in her cleared vision. “Do you see…anything?”

If he expected her to leap off the table and tumble into his lap, hugging him tight, he sure didn’t show it. Laughing, Rahm returned the gesture, if only so she wouldn’t fall to the floor, arms firmly secured around her.

“Alright, alright—I take it something happened, ye?”

“Hell yes!” she explained, scrambling off him with a mischievous grin. Already she was searching for a menu that might deal with mods. “Holy—you did it! It’s up!”

She appreciated his cheeks were dusted a faint red. It looked good on him. He of course kept up his bravado and scooted back to observe her excited jiggling, clearly liking what he saw. Recalling she still had that hideous face of Coram’s Paz paused, smirking as she held up a pointed finger. She’d found the menu for surface mods and sure enough, there was a way to change them.

“Ready for my real face?” she teased, already working on it before he eagerly nodded. “Dude, I’m so, _so_ glad you could fix it. Thank you, Rahm. I mean it.”

“How’d you come up with that face anyway?” he wondered, curious. Gold eyes were trained on her distracted features. Too excited, Paz couldn’t think up a response beyond the truth.

“I was thinking about him which, I guess, made this happen.”

“Oh?” His tone was pleasantly sly, attention intensifying. “And what were you thinking of, dear?”

She couldn’t stop the grin that took over her borrowed lips. “Between you and me, ye? I mean…you’ve seen him. He’s…nice to look at. Not like I’d do anything about it now.”

He burst into gentle laughter, patiently waiting. “A smart decision. I know it’s difficult with our compulsions, though it’s for the best. Now, if you _are_ in need of a distraction while you’re here, I’m more than happy to help in any way I can.”

Her grin only grew. Paz secured the uninstallation of her mods, prepared to climb into his lap once more. “Mm, I was hoping you might. Not trying to trade help for some action but…I’m pretty into you.”

Pleased to hear her say such a thing, Rahm’s dilated gaze darted to hers with a roguish wink. He started to say something but paused, lips still parted while the curiosity and desire drained from his face. Paz cocked her head, one hand already reaching to touch a cheek. Her face felt fine. Had something gone wrong?

“You’re…” Abruptly, Rahm rose from the stool, quickly diverting his ogling. “Ah, excuse me.”

He swiftly exited before she could protest, leaving Paz alone in the shop room. She flinched a little when he slammed the door shut, wondering what’d turned him off that fast. Most everyone liked her face, or at least tolerated it. _Had_ it come back wrong? She was beginning to think so, scanning the room for something to check herself out. Damnit, this was what she got for trying to cheat the system and overlapping comms.

There was a small mirror next to the sink in the corner. Huddling in front of it, she frowned in both relief and confusion at her reflection. She looked like herself—everything was correct. So why had Rahm up and deserted her like he’d just seen a ghost? Was she not his type? Tch, she was _everyone’s_ type for at least a few minutes. He obviously hadn’t seen her correctly—that had to be it. Besides, she’d read all the signs. He couldn’t just drop her cold after suggesting exactly what she’d wanted from him.

She headed out into the hall as well, deciding he’d just been surprised. That could easily be corrected. Now, which way had he gone? Either way down the hall was dimly lit and equally plausible, but lowered voices drifted to her left. She lightly trotted that way, navigating through several short corridors until the muffled voices became clearer.

And louder.

“—could’ve told us you found her!”

_That_ made her stop in her tracks. Up ahead Rahm sounded pissed, and Coram’s retorting snarl wasn’t any better.

“I was under no obligation.”

“ _Yes you were_ ,” Rahm growled, each word pointed. “You _knew_ it was important to us. Vanson begg _ed_ —”

“And I did it,” the captain interrupted, cutting him off. “No one else would, ye? Any chance we had was about to close, so I did what I could.”

His little lecture was met with silence. Sidled up against the hallway wall, Paz kept frowning. What the fuck were they talking about? Rahm had _not_ sounded like this while he’d been working on her. Fists curling, she started to step into the rec area they’d arrived in. Rahm’s contemptuous snort stopped her.

“Let me guess—you didn’t tell her?”

There was a sigh. “There hasn’t been time.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out who ‘she’ was in this context, and Paz carefully spilled into the edge of the rec room. Coram and Desh sat across from one another on separate couches while Rahm stood before the captain, his posture agitated. A surge of unwarranted anger rose up her throat.

“Tell me what?” she demanded, tone hardly even. All three startled, Desh swearing under his breath as he rubbed over his eyes. While Coram’s gaze immediately darted to the concrete, Rahm at least swiveled on the balls of his feet and testily addressed her, arms crossed.

“We worked with your father, Miss Paz,” he stiffly explained, refusing to look away. “He was my co-captain. You…carry some of the same features.”

Uh…

Forgetting about the new comm, about the fact they were hiding in Nav territory, and especially the fact she’d been trying to hook up just seconds ago,Paz’s brain ground to a halt without really comprehending what Rahm had said. Her…dad? Wait a minute, that…but he was dead. Hadn’t Coram verified that?

But perhaps he’d only known because…they’d been on the same ship? Hold on, that didn’t make sense. Her parents had been slaves. They hadn’t had _time_ to man a ship hell-bent on bringing down the Nav. Right?

Leaning on the edge of the wall for support she huffed a denying laugh. It was the best she could do because the other option was throwing something. “Sorry, what? What’s that…got to do with me?”

“He never mentioned he had a child until he passed,” Rahm went on, bracing himself. “He…wasn’t sure what’d happened to you and asked if we might…verify your safety. Seems you’ve been just fine until _these two_ decided to intervene.”

“That’s not—” Coram started to argue but Rahm cut him off with a pissy growl. Now was not the time to add more to the pile, because Paz already looked confused enough. Mostly because…it was a lot to process.

She knew Coram was angrily protesting over Rahm’s order but she couldn’t hear it, a roar ripping through her head. She whipped around, unsure what she really intended to do but first things first she needed to stop looking at the douchebags in the rec area.

Otherwise she might launch herself at one of them and she didn’t have the strength to fight either Hylerian and win. When she _did_ do that, she wanted to ensure her victory.


	33. Ch 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paz comes to terms with what she's been told, and gets a little more comfortable with her new comm. Not gonna lie, I wish some tech billionaire would get on creating something like mods.

Her dad had been a murdering pirate with an obsession over destroying not only the Nav but any slaver or dick in Andromeda who thought themselves better than a Hylerian. He’d killed thousands in the name of ‘justice’ and died because of it. She didn’t want to believe she’d been produced by someone capable of that kind of evil but…well, Rahm had given her the rundown several hours after she’d stalked off and holed up in a random closet in his home. She hadn’t been hard to find; slamming bruised fists into the walls wasn’t exactly quiet.

He tried to make her understand that Vanson, his co-captain, had been an honorable hero to their people which was just…such a lie, but she appreciated the persistence. Rahm was trying his best to explain anything she’d listen to, which was a lot better than anything Coram or Desh had said in _months_.

She definitely didn’t want to fuck him any longer, so that was disappointing but probably for the best.

This Vanson fellow, her (ugh) dad, hadn’t always been so obsessed with the blood of anyone who slighted his people. No, at some point he’d been a regular old enslaved Hylerian working for a mining operation. He’d met someone, a lover, and they’d escaped, only to be brought back a year or so later with seemingly nothing to show for it. His partner was then executed as an example and that, Rahm suspected, was what’d led to Vanson’s need for vengeance.

If it’d been phrased differently Paz might’ve found it tragically romantic but to her it was just…bullshit. Because of people like him, the Nav, the Federation, had every right to believe they should be extinct. His volatility was _why_ she needed people like Val keeping her contained.

She’d asked Rahm to leave her after he’d given her the best of what he knew, holing up in the closet and eventually falling into a fitful, exhausting, sleep. It was just…a lot to think about, and she wasn’t really sure if any of it mattered.

But it did make her feel lonelier than she’d ever felt. She’d always thought Sam was too preoccupied with potentially searching for his family once he was on his own, too worried about who or where they were. She’d never questioned her parents story, or the vague details Val told her when she _had_ asked. Now she knew the truth, and she hadn’t even needed to search for it.

X

The next morning she was a little more put together and incredibly hungry, which drew her out of the closet and through Rahm’s house until she found him in a well-organized kitchen frying some kind of meat. He threw her a carefully crafted smile over one shoulder as she entered, a plate already laid out for her. There was only one, she noticed. One for her and only her, because the other Hylerians were a package deal.

“If you’re feeling up to it,” he casually suggested, “I do have a couple spare bedrooms. You can use one if you’d like to get some better sleep.”

Lips pursed, Paz tried to remember she was pissed with them all and slid into the chair before her plate. Damnit, everything on it looked delicious and she was drooling before she realized it.

“I also have a shower,” he added, just in case she wasn’t aware, poking at whatever was in the skillet over his burner. “You might…like it.”

“I stink,” she groaned, picking up a laid-out spoon and digging in, finishing between bites. “I get it. I will in a bit, ye?”

She could feel him grinning more broadly. “You look at your comm any more?”

Rahm could cook. She might just decide to stay here. Forget about promises and such; this was too good. Instead of answering him she scooped more beans into her mouth.

“Where’s the asshole?”

“Brooding with his second. Likely multi-tasking and planning this alleged heist of a ship in order to leave. You approved of this plan?”

She nearly choked on a vegetable root. “I’m only here because that asshole can get me back to my crew.”

“Ah. I heard a bit about that.” And instead of elaborating he kept prodding in the skillet. Swallowing, Paz’s gaze flickered from her plate to his back, waiting. He seemed calm as could be.

She focused back on her plate, mopping up some sauce with a bit of bread. “He thought I’d be a good thief for some project of his. That wasn’t all, then?”

“Ask him when you get a chance,” Rahm murmured, tone dangerously quiet. “Asshole he may be, but he…did his best.”

Paz’s eyes rolled and she gave up, tearing her bread into tinier pieces. If no one wanted to talk about it then fine, she supposed she didn’t need to know. She’d already gotten this far without a straight answer. Might as well continue on in ignorance. “So, Rahm. What’s the evil Nav up to these days besides protecting Fed-born citizens and the like?”

“Not so sweet when you aren’t looking for trouble, are you?” he drawled, snorting in amusement. Whatever he’d been cooking was done and he circled around to plop a few links on her half-empty plate. “I’m Hylerian, too, dear; I know what you’re up to.”

Baiting him? Ye, she was definitely working on that, but she’d set it aside for the time being. There was more delectable food to inhale.

“Would you stop me if I tried to go out?” she inquired between bites, gauging what she could get away with. Setting the skillet in a deep sink, Rahm settled back against the counter to look her over. There was no more flirting, not an ounce of sexual intrigue. A shame given how she’d been feeling, but completely understandable.

“I have work to do,” he decided, rather unconcerned. “Your companions may not like it, but I’m not going to stop you.”

Because they would. It’d take a while but she knew they would. There’d be no rest until she picked up that third key.

“Or,” Rahm mused, “go with them. They’ll be in the city later.”

Tch, to do that she’d need another face and she wasn’t all that jazzed about masking herself again. But… Damnit, it’d be such a waste, being here and never even getting to see anything besides Rahm’s stupid house. And it’d be good practice. It wasn’t like she had much else to do today besides shower and mope.

Oh, wait.

She glanced up, meeting Rahm’s pretty eyes. “You know anyone who could fix a cracked rib?”

His return gaze soured, like he’d never wanted to hear that in his life. Paz smiled apologetically.

“I’ll tell you about Alpha if I can get it fixed today,” she promised.

Because that would piss Coram off, and she was all sorts of itching to do that. And, even though Rahm continued blanching, he did agree to get that taken care of for her.

It turned out he had a bone scanner in one of his workshops and she happily laid under it for an hour or so that morning, letting the tech repair what’d clearly been fucked up while vaguely relaying what’d happened at the dead colony (minus a few little bits of information). For all his easy-going demeanor Rahm sure didn’t seem that pleased when she explained the Hylerian treasure trove and natives. He asked a few questions, more confused about what’d happened to the colony, but it was clear he was taking everything she said to heart.

Oh, she was aware he’d probably relay everything to Coram. That was the point. It’d _kill_ the captain to have to hear bits from Rahm, if he was even willing to listen.

The only real question Rahm had by the time he needed to get to his own work was where Guinto had gone, or if the Hylerian even survived. His guess was as good as hers. Still, both of them wondered. If still alive, Guinto was likely the only true Hylerian in the entire galaxy. Unless…

No. The Nav had clearly wiped them out. Paz still wasn’t sure why, though Rahm obviously had his own thoughts over the _why_ issue. He never told her, however, and she didn’t ask for his opinion.

He left her on her own soon after, promising he’d check in later on. The scanner quietly did its thing and all she had to do was lay there which was perfect—it was like getting a semi-massage where her aches and pains were slowly relieved with each pass of the tech’s arm.

Reeser had clearly undergone the same treatment previously once they’d returned from Fiala’s estate. To Paz this indicated there was a scanner on board for mortal injuries which…how come she hadn’t gotten rung through it? She could’ve avoided ugly scarring. And yet…she kind of wanted to keep the scars on her skin. A reminder of her stupidity, and defiance. And stubbornness.

Ye, she’d keep those even if someone said they could fix them. Even if she still didn’t like looking at them.

At least this was relaxing. She supposed it could be worse. Reeser probably hadn’t been awake when they’d saved his foot. He’d had his mother with him, too—she would’ve torn the Lakai apart if he hadn’t been fixed.

“Whatever,” she grumbled to herself, rolling one way to experiment with her rib. It wasn’t clicking any longer. “You’re good. You got this. Stupid parents or not, the goal hasn’t changed.”

Okay, a lot had changed but the end game hadn’t. She needed away from these douchebags, needed back with people who made sense and were normal. Well, normal enough. The Lakai and Friends were in a business she had no desire or experience with. On the Osiris she at least understood what was happening—buying and selling of substances, and making credits wherever they could. She hadn’t exactly seen Coram or Desh do the business they dabbled in but she didn’t need to. The fact they’d rather make it look like the flight they’d taken had crashed _and_ it hadn’t even been them told her a lot.

Therefore, she definitely had no business being with them. Thankfully neither had been on their pseudo-propaganda bullshit lately, if only because there wasn’t time. Despite that, she needed out before they began assuming she’d like to follow in her, ugh, father’s footsteps. She hadn’t forgotten about the absom business aboard the Lakai; that was _not_ something she wanted to be involved in.

Should she be outraged her mother had been allegedly executed? She’d thought about it a lot last night, heart hardening the more she ran it through her head. Rahm said her parents ran away. If Val wasn’t so nice Paz could see her putting down either her or Sam for that kind of mutiny. If it was true, her father was lucky he hadn’t been killed at the same time.

What? She was being honest. Just because they were her parents didn’t mean they were special. They’d done wrong, so…punishment was deserved. It wasn’t like she’d known them, wasn’t like she had any ties or reason to think otherwise. Like Coram, her dad deserved his fate. He’d been poking at the Nav, apparently, and death was what happened when someone harassed the authorities. Didn’t matter if it was in the name of justice.

It didn’t. It did _not_ matter.

Now if she kept telling herself that she might stop doubting it. Reaching for her chest, she pressed into her ribs once more. It was nearly finished. Good. She wanted to go take a shower.

Minutes went by, the scanner buzzing quietly while she impatiently waited for it to signal it was finished. Sitting still was never her forte but it was worse with nothing to do besides think about everything. Hoping to stop that, she pulled up her comm’s display. There hadn’t been any interest in looking through it last night. Today she figured it’d be a good idea to do a more thorough inspection.

Like the menus for media. She’d never heard anything on any of the playlists—literally none of it. And…she understood the titles and labels, could read through them just fine, but she didn’t know what half of the words meant. Any vids she avoided for now, diving into the music with low expectations.

Most of it wasn’t necessarily enjoyable, but…she found a few songs she liked, putting those on their own list. Contacts were even weirder though. She’d thought she had none last night. Today there were a dozen names completely foreign to her. Paz was starting to get the impression Guinto had given her a used comm, one that hadn’t been wiped clean. Grossed out as she was by the notion, she’d never give it up.

Any libraries of texts were just as strange, things she could read but didn’t understand the terminology. This’d clearly been someone else’s. She didn’t know who, or care honestly, but it was…kind of interesting seeing someone else’s belongings.

No credits though, which was a major disappointment. The holdings menu was set up; nothing inside unfortunately. Well, even if she could get out of here and run to the city she had nothing to pay with.

Fuck.

She’d never needed to steal before, not so blatantly or in a colony. Her type of theft consisted of sneaking about and pilfering in abandoned ships. Or, apparently, killing a huasca dealer in cold blood, but that’d been one incident. Trying to steal here involved true stealth and she never had the patience.

Hmm…wait, if this was possibly someone else’s and it hadn’t been cleaned…could she assume their identity? It’d give her something to work with identity-wise, and she could fill in the face and such as she wished. And, of course it’d be—damn, it’d be an old identity, but still. It might work perfectly. Maybe even make her practically anonymous. She liked the idea. And, even if she were caught…that was what the absom was for.

Those couple little bottles still lived in her pant pocket, somehow unscathed save for a few scratches. She’d pop those suckers open and shove them down someone’s throat if they dared get in her way.

Mind made up, she delved into the comm’s personal menus, searching for any licenses or personal stats. Anything that might shed some light on the previous owner. There wasn’t much to go on, nothing like personal images or recorded transactions.

But.

There was a single document for something she hadn’t expected, a deed to a ‘post’ in ‘Balain’ sector, whatever the fuck that meant. She’d never heard of Balain, not in the colonies anyway. The owner of her comm apparently held some land or…something like that, somewhere. Cool, but not what she cared about. She delved into the document, scanning it for a name.

There it was, all the way down at the bottom, signed and dated…with a date she couldn’t read. The name she had to really work at to understand, too, but it was something, at least. Kamul Lapata.

Did she really want to go with ‘Kamul’? Not really, but it was better than strutting around as herself or as someone whom her comm’s licenses wouldn’t match. Might as well make it seamless as possible.

Was there an image _anywhere_ of this Kamul? No, not that Paz could find. As the scanner finished with a ding she was digging through texts searching but to no avail. The comm hadn’t been cleaned, but this Kamul hadn’t left a lot of evidence. Interesting.

Slipping out of the machine, Paz distractedly jiggled, searching for any kind of ache. Nothing. Good. She wanted to be in good shape for whatever came next.

“Look at you,” she furtively murmured to her reflection in the room’s small mirror, eyeing herself with pride. She looked tired, definitely, and a little gaunt but she was definitely looking better than earlier. Both biceps curled and she smiled brightly. Those endless workouts on the Lakai had done some good, after all.

Now, to give herself a new face, preferably not Coram’s. Reaching into her menus she ensured there were no current mods, then moved back to the texts. Somewhere in all those documents she bet there were at least images of people, even if they weren’t this Kamul. Some sad looking lady with a muslin veil over long brown hair was in a section about religion—she took the image and copied it to her mods. It’d do, and it was generic enough she figured she’d fit in anywhere.

Paz shut her eyes. It didn’t do anything but it made her feel like she was concentrating harder. “Come on. Just put on her face. Easy. Just…one face. One generic ass face. You can do it.”

“You talk to yourself a lot,” Coram remarked, head in the doorway behind her. Paz didn’t bother turning, or even opening her eyes. She had things to do and she already knew he was probably smirking and judging.

He was lucky she hadn’t already thrown something at him.

“I’m busy,” she curtly replied, frowning.

There was a slight pause before he brought up the inevitable. “When you’re finished can we talk?”

They most certainly could not. She didn’t have to think on that but he’d already broken her concentration. Both hands curled around the shelf below the mirror.

“Dude, if you’re looking to explain yourself don’t bother,” she grumbled. “I don’t care. You’re still an asshole and I’m still going home.”

“Topaz—”

“Are you going out today?” she asked, immediately moving on. “Or tonight or whatever? I want to go with. Not to hang out, but I’m here and I want to see Beta. Let me see Beta and I won’t care who or what you’ve done so long as our agreement stands.”

She could practically hear him mulling over how to best work her request to his advantage. There wasn’t a good way to spin it so he eventually gave in.

“Fine. You stay with us and keep a low profile. It probably won’t be that exciting but…we’ll make some concessions.”

Her heart swelled with anticipation. Did she show it though? Absolutely not. “Okay. Cool. Do I have time to shower?”

“ _Please_ shower.”

Snorting, she dared sneak a quick peek over one shoulder. “I know, I know—I stink. I’ll get right on it.”

He’d been staring at the floor but when she turned his attention flickered up. Paz watched an entire array of expressions cross his face before he swallowed heavily. She figured her own face had changed and couldn’t help grinning as she checked—yep. Sad lady was staring back at her albeit with peppier features.

“Is there a reason you picked the Mother Virgo?” he wondered, voice tight. Paz grinned even more broadly. His misery was her pleasure. She’d heard of the Mother before, from Val. Val had been into religious entities.

“That what this is?” she mused, craning her neck this way and that, admiring her comm’s handiwork. “Huh. Well, certainly not the Mother part, but I figured it was generic enough.”

Swiveling on her feet she faced him with that obnoxious smirk. “What do you think?”

He didn’t look any further, pulling from the door and vanishing down the hall, voice going with. “It’ll work. We’ll collect you in a couple hours.”

And that was that. Shrugging off his weirdness, Paz faced the mirror once more and preened over the fake skin she’d managed conjuring. She thought she looked great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Paz'll finally get to see how much fun Beta can be next chapter <3


	34. Ch 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See, the thing is, Paz may think she's all indestructible badass but she's also a people-pleaser. Harming people she doesn't want to harm is literally her worst nightmare. To be clear, Paz would've dove into Beta headfirst no matter what or who she was around, that's just who she is. Anyway let's have some fun!

Beta’s city was massive. Massive, and elevated. Paz only knew this because each street they took from the slums and into downtown rose higher than the last. By the time they’d reached inner city limits, if she turned she had an expansive view of everything below, slums and the farmland beyond included. She could even see the sparkling Madalin, its deep blue band one edge of the horizon.

Either way she looked, forward or backward, her eyes were in for a treat. The sprawling city before them rose from the streets in a mishmash of sleek high-rises, colossal arenas wrapped in colorful ads, and giant stately buildings squatting amongst luxury. The streets, full of all sorts of people, were clearly meant for pedestrian traffic. Twenty meters above taxi rigs ferried about, and even higher meandered service trucks.

Everything glimmered around her: lights, windows, even the people. It was a lot to take in at once and she wished she had more time to study Beta. Her two definitely-not-pained escorts however weren’t interested in sight seeing. Ugh, what killjoys.

She dutifully followed Coram and Desh into numerous shops and depots, taking a tram across town to mull near the docks as well. They were clearly planning their escape and gauging interest in the attacks that’d occurred in nearby Alpha.

Oh yes, they were all over public news vids. Paz had seen the same ships she’d fucking helped destroy explode at least a dozen times on their journey through Beta. Each time she buried her feelings a little deeper and prayed she wouldn’t puke. Despite being all over, few on the ground seemed to pay attention, or care. Even here in the Nav’s home, life carried on as usual.

Therefore, her companions figured they could be out of here in a couple days at the latest. She only knew this because she’d been included in their personal group pings (she’d lovingly dubbed it ‘Assholes’ in her comm’s messages). She had little to add but now saw their plans coming to fruition.

Apparently her comm did indeed play with others, hence the group chat. Paz knew this was mainly to keep in contact with her so she didn’t desert, but it was nice to know it really worked. Before they’d left Rahm’s house she’d had three new contacts of her own, and only two were ones she didn’t particularly want.

One day, if she could connect into a public channel, she’d seek out Val. Trying to do so here (or without security she wasn’t sure how to figure out) would attract attention she didn’t yet want.

For now she merely followed Coram and Desh like a duck, taking notes on what they were looking for while admiring the sights. She could live in Beta if anyone would ever let her. There was so much to do and see from the look of it, and within city limits the colony was as progressive and well off as everyone said it was. The apartment high-rises she could already envision herself living in, heading out each day to prowl Beta’s sparkling streets for…well, something. She’d keep herself occupied here, obviously. There were enough bars, for one, that she’d never even _need_ to go home, and the options for entertainment were endless.

Why’d they have to leave so soon? If Coram and Desh could leave the Lakai without concern then they could clearly lay low a little longer. And sure, maybe she just didn’t want to return to the ship but staying down here seemed reasonable. Smart, even, if they were hoping to let their trail go cold.

Bringing that up never came to mind though, not while they eyeballed shipping lanes, not when they perused a Nav surplus shop across town, and definitely not when they passed Nav headquarters on the tram. It was a huge complex consisting of several formidable buildings, all built in that sterile and sharp metal-and-concrete style the Nav always used. As they passed, Paz actually found it…familiar. Well, parts of it. The main building of the complex looked almost exactly like what she’d seen of Alpha’s headquarters.

Weird.

She didn’t want to look at it more than she had to, and neither did the other two. They essentially ignored it, heads bent together until they exited at a stop deep in Beta’s interior.

Honestly, Paz would be lost without them. Soon as they left the tram and headed back to the streets it was sensory overload, with neon, glitter, and loud advertisements everywhere. She loved it; they hated it, but put up with it for whatever reason.

They even took her inside a dance hall and told her to have fun, preferring to hide in a booth they’d commandeered. Long as she was in eyeshot they didn’t care what she did, and she knew why. They wanted to discuss things without her presence.

This left Paz in a difficult spot because she did enjoy criticizing their decisions, but they’d also left her awkwardly standing around in a dance hall, throngs of raucous people crowding around in every direction and a heavy beat thrumming through her bones thanks to a DJ hidden somewhere in the joint. Yes, she had no credits, but she could improvise. She had boobs and the borrowed clothes from Rahm could be manipulated.

Stay with the brooders, or go and have fun, even if it was only because they needed her occupied? Honestly, the choice was easy.

She was out on the main dance floor in minutes, slowly getting used to the vibe, the lights and music, and inching deeper into the crowd of writhing bodies. It was an interesting experience because she’d _heard_ of places like this, been to clubs close to it in terms of the body count and music loud enough to drown out her own thoughts, but nothing quite as…encompassing. The energy itself of the hall drew her in, mixing into her blood and loosening her muscles. Soon Paz was swinging her hips like other people in her periphery, copying them move for move. She didn’t know exactly what she wanted to do here, but she knew how she was going to get it.

No one had ever objected to her ass against their groin in the entire history of her life, so as soon as she had the hang of the beat she pushed herself into a group of girls and began doing that. They, thankfully, were delighted with the extra body and took the hint, hooting encouragements and grinding with her.

The other two were forgotten. Suddenly it was just her and the pretty girls around her, all of them too pretty by the way, but whatever—she was in the same condition. She loved the movement, loved the trance her body had been constricted to, and most importantly loved the bodies pressed up against hers in a singular fashion. Nothing was important outside this circle, and she promptly lost herself in whatever coursed through her veins.

Forget the beach— _this_ was the best experience in Beta thus far. Paz couldn’t remember what the cold waves felt like, their sensation replaced with warm flesh and perfume that anywhere else would be cloying. No one wanted her gone; it was like she’d become one with the beast.

And when one of those girls pressed up against her front, gaining her entire attention span with a full lip and intense caramel eyes, it was over. Paz was hooked, trapped in a snare she’d willingly jumped for, and now some other girl was feeling her up from the side while Caramel Eyes smiled at her, kissed her, danced for _her_. Holy fuck, this was…this was not what she’d been looking for but she’d gladly accept it. All of it.

The hall vanished, as did the lights and music. The only thing that suddenly mattered was the beautiful girl playfully running her tongue over Paz’s lower lip, sending a jolt of mellow electricity through her system. She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t do anything besides happily play along. What was this? Had she been missing out her whole life by not coming here? Who were these people? The more she tried to think about it the less sense it made. Caramel Eyes was pulling her in, kissing her more, touching her in places she probably shouldn’t (at least not in public), and yet it all seemed to be part of the dance. The girls around them were doing the same thing.

Clutching her tight, her temporary paramour whispered something in Paz’s ear. Paz had no idea what she said but didn’t mind, gyrating with her regardless. She was so close, so warm, so perfect. She’d do anything the woman wanted.

Anything.

And realizing that was like sending a shower of velvety petals rushing through her veins, shooting Paz to a level she hadn’t been on in some time.

Everyone seemed to know it, too. In a flash she was being herded elsewhere, hands groping and massaging, heady giggles infiltrating through the sensuous music. Paz had no idea where they were headed but it wasn’t far. She was handed off to various pretty people, all of whom took their time with her. Caramel Eyes was always at her side or in front of her, stroking and teasing and holy fuck she might be panting.

No, that was definitely her breathing hard as someone deftly fondled her through her clothes. How did they know she’d been lacking in physical contact lately? How did they know all her weak spots? Were they climbing stairs? Her legs were wobbling, barely able to hold herself up. This was—this was a lot of sensory overload, even more so than earlier. Her heart pounded, skin sweaty as she desperately clung to whoever held her up. Too much. Too much was happening. Tunnel vision closed in, Caramel Eyes being all she needed to see.

Caramel Eyes betrayed her just as she was gathering her bearings, too, shoving Paz forward through a gate of shadowy figures. Thudding music returned the second she caught herself on a cool silver pole, the hall filtering back into her vision as well. Clutching to the pole like it might save her, Paz drowsily blinked as she took in her noisy, crowded surroundings.

She was above most everyone on a platform somewhere at the front of the hall. Hundreds of sparkling people packed the floor below, and others were nearby, writhing on platforms like hers. No one paid her any attention, thankfully (she had to look all sorts of stupid just wide eyed and standing there). Despite that, nerves shot through Paz and she clung to the rail even tighter. How’d she even get up here with other people swaying to music her body had temporarily forgotten?

Someone wrapped a comforting hand around her somehow bare waist. Paz first glanced down at her tucked up shirt and then to Caramel Eyes behind her, the other girl offering an encouraging smile. Frozen, Paz tried to show her she didn’t know what to do. Caramel Eyes waved off her concern, nudging Paz’s left hip toward the pole, then the other in a sort of figure-eight.

“Ride it,” the other girl mouthed, honeyed words somehow making it to Paz’s ears. Confused, she kept moving her hips back and forth, back and forth, back and…oh.

Okay, she was getting it, matching her beat with the music, lids lowering and slowly giving a little from the pole. Somewhere in the background she could hear Caramel Eyes uttering praise, fingers still tracing over her skin as if guiding her. Was she? Or…cradling her? Paz had no idea, had given up trying to make sense of it. She let the music take hold of her body, just like Caramel Eyes, using the pole as a means of balance while swaying around it.

Truly, she’d never felt so in tune with something or someone else before. It was as if everything had disappeared—her issues anyway. No more thoughts about exploding Nav ships, no vigilante parents, no asshole companions, no aliens…mm, what a nice feeling, not having to deal with anything. Just knowing those problems were far off drew her confidence, her hips swinging more heavily, shoulders drooping and going where they pleased, just like Caramel Eyes’ hands. Sam, she vaguely thought, wouldn’t know what to do with himself here.

All the more reason to let herself go.

Several pings intruded her headspace at once. She ignored them, focusing on Caramel Eyes’ tight embrace while they worked the pole. The other girl had twirled her to face each other, leaving Paz with only a weak grip on the metal. She was so close, invading Paz’s space like she personally owned it. Did she? Paz wasn’t going to stop her. She could own her all night. That’d be—

Another ping popped up, irritating her more than they should. Frustrated, she checked her pings as Caramel Eyes swung them around, the hall spinning in a blur of dazzling color.

_It’s been over an hour. We need to go._

It’d been that long? But—stumbling in her swing Paz’s lush gaze darted down to the floor in search of Coram. He couldn’t be telling the truth. She’d just gotten up here. Where was he, anyway? The booth—she couldn’t see the booths. A slight panic made her freeze more though Caramel Eyes kept her going. She was saying something, warm breath hitting Paz’s face when she darted in front of her turned cheek. Damn, was her face hot? The woman’s hands were ice cold as they grabbed her own wrists. Had she—she hadn’t taken anything, had she?

She hadn’t. And yet…she felt too good for it to be real.

_You look drunk._

Oh, great, he was around somewhere. Where? Ignoring Caramel Eyes’ attention Paz whipped around. She found herself somehow intrigued, badly wanting to know where the captain was. His ping was so disgusted that she wanted to see it for herself, wanted his attention, wanted—

 _How drunk_? she pinged back, unable to pick him out of the crowd below. Was he on another platform? Even Desh she couldn’t find. Could he see their pings? This wasn’t part of the group chat, was it?

Caramel Eyes was practically glued to her now, those beautiful eyes hooded as she cupped Paz’s cheeks and pushed in closer. Every inch of Paz went taut, highly aware of what was going to happen next. She couldn’t wait, wanting this girl’s attention just as badly. Her pulse sped up while the hall slowed down, forgetting about anything beyond her once more. Damn, why was she so easy? Had it been _that_ long? Was she really that uncontrollable?

No answer came from Coram. She tried looking again but Caramel Eyes had her trapped. In a good way, she supposed, but not helping her desperation. Trying to wrench out of the woman’s embrace was about as effective as not doing anything. Paz still attempted extracting herself, heart beginning to hammer in a different way. She needed—needed to at least know where the guys were, not because she enjoyed their company but how else was she supposed to go home?

“I have to find my friends,” she breathlessly panted against Caramel Eyes’ lips, still struggling between her and the pole. Caramel Eyes’ mouth twitched, eyes crinkling in mischief.

“Why?” she wondered, barely louder than the music. Why, indeed. It took a second to put Paz’s thoughts together. Why did she need them? They were assholes. But…

“They’ll take me home,” she honestly answered, eyelids fluttering. She didn’t feel right. Well, not exactly. She wasn’t sick, but this wasn’t…she’d rather be lying down, letting someone spread her—

Caramel Eyes held her cheeks tighter, thumbs stroking sweat-matted skin. “So? Why would you want to leave?”

She’d been asking herself that a lot all day. Why should she leave Beta? She liked it. It was all she’d ever wanted it to be and more. Maybe…maybe she didn’t need to go back to Sam, or Val, or the Osiris. Maybe she didn’t need Coram’s Lakai, either. Tch, why she’d allowed him to think he had any iota of control over her was so…so stupid.

Going still in the other woman’s embrace, Paz studied her, gaze darting here and there and memorizing each beautiful facet of her face. This woman would give her all she wanted, she could feel it. This woman would allow her access to all kinds of substances, all kinds of experiences. It’d be fantastic and she’d enjoy every second of it.

But.

This wasn’t her face. What would she think if she ever saw Paz for the Hylerian she was? What if she…ever knew who’d helped take down those Nav ships, like the ones that sat in this very colony’s docks? Would she care? Probably not personally.

But monetarily? Well, the Nav probably would _really_ like to know who’d destroyed an entire fleet—she’d seen the coverage earlier in public monitors. She might be under the influence of something (she had to be, she’d decided, at this point) but Paz wasn’t that dumb. She knew how people operated. She’d seen what happened when people wanted their credits, a la Fiala and Val.

Credits always got in the way of relationships.

Without thinking Paz nudged forward, nose touching Caramel Eyes’. It felt so weird because she, at least, knew they weren’t actually touching. In its place there was a cool presence, a placeholder. Did the other girl feel it? She didn’t seem to, so Paz went ahead and offered her mouth, her kiss lingering for several long, lovely seconds. The other girl fell headfirst into the sensation, eyes shuttering and hips slowing to a halt. Her grip weakened, and the moment Paz thought she could get out of her embrace she did just that, dodging left and slipping around the girl as quickly as she could, disappearing through the gate of writhing bodies and tripping down a set of steep, glittering stairs to the dance floor below.

 _Where are you?_ she pinged Coram, thoughts in a frenzy, diving through people and pushing her way to the crowded, thumping floor. This time she received an answer.

_By the door. Seemed like you needed privacy._

Not helpful, and also a little bitter sounding. Much as she’d like to talk about that she had other things on her mind. _Right—where’s the door_?

 _The way we came in_.

For fuck’s sake, if he thought she’d paid attention—

“Hey!” Someone grabbed her by the wrist, spinning Paz right around. She knocked right back into Caramel Eyes, who looked more than a little desperate and worried. “Where are you going?”

Mm, far from her and this place to disappear into the night? No matter how she said it it’d sound horrible. Paz didn’t necessarily _want_ to leave this girl; she didn’t want to stay, either.

“I have a curfew,” she found herself shouting over the music, doing her best to make her face look sincerely apologetic. How could she though? She’d barely studied it, had no clue how to make it authentic, and Caramel Eyes wasn’t buying it. Fuck.

“Curfew?” she echoed, her already overused voice cracking. Before she could say anything else Paz yanked her arm back and moved on. She couldn’t look at her anymore, couldn’t face her with a fake face or try and lie her way out of her position. She’d asked for it; she’d _wanted_ to be a part of it, and now she was backing out like a coward.

Caramel Eyes managed touching her at least two more times and each time Paz felt even guiltier than the last. She moved faster, pushing through crowded groups of people and wandering whichever way she thought the stupid exit might be. Honestly she had no clue; she just needed away from the other woman before she could be reeled back in. Because if she had to look the girl in the eyes one more time, she was going to fall for her all over again and it wouldn’t end well. Might as well break it off now before Paz could hurt her even more.

She really didn’t like hurting people, not when it wasn’t intentional.

The more she tried to get away from Caramel Eyes the more she ran in circles. Even she recognized that when she kept seeing the same advertisements on walls no matter which way she went. Lost, and clearly on something though she had no idea how, Paz found nerves quickly chipping away at her ability to keep it together. She started pinging Coram in quick succession, all of them sounding just as panicky as she felt. He wasn’t answering fast enough and there were so many people in the hall, and why the fuck couldn’t she find her way out of here? She’d lost the other girl but how long before she was rediscovered, or what if Caramel Eyes had good friends who wouldn’t stand for their friend being ghosted? Should she change her face now? To what? Would people freak out? Would it matter?

A wall she hadn’t even seen smacked right into her and Paz only stumbled for a second before flattening against it, all kinds of paranoid thoughts suddenly swirling together in some kind of ugly soup. She stayed where she was, wishing she were anywhere but there at the moment, maybe somewhere with less people, somewhere where she stood to lose less should she be found out. Home. She’d rather be home. Yes, the Osiris, where she could hang out in the lab with Sam and go on lotus binges for weeks on end. Where she could snuggle up to him after a long mission. Where she would bug the rest of the crew and they’d at least give her the time of day when it mattered.

She tucked against the wall as hard as she could and took a deep breath. She was losing it. It didn’t happen very often but it always seemed like the worst moments: in Reeser’s lap while drunk, or hiding in the refrigerator back on the Osiris when she couldn’t have her way and thought the universe had unfairly targeted her. At least in those times she’d felt wronged. Here, however, she felt like _she_ was wronging others, like she was in the wrong because she couldn’t control herself for more than a couple minutes. It had to be true. How else had she ended up dancing on some pole with another girl? Granted, that was typical behavior of her anywhere else but this was different. This was Beta. She was supposed to be on her best behavior. She was supposed to be laying low.

Yet here she was, intrigued by _one_ type of entertainment and already out of her mind. Val was right. Sam was right. Goddamned Coram was right.

She was volatile and she could not control herself.

Big hands gripped her shoulders and suddenly she was moving, tucked under someone’s shoulder. Paz knew it was Coram because he was herding her along like an animal, forcing her to match his gait which was a little difficult given how long his legs were compared to hers but she was more preoccupied with not devolving into a mess of tears at the moment. She wanted to, she _really_ wanted to, but he was moving so fast she had to keep her eyes on the ground to make sure she didn’t trip. She never looked back, never did anything beside move where he silently directed. Soon enough the music, the bodies, the lights dissipated and her boots were now thudding on concrete. They didn’t stop, not for several minutes.

“You have fun?” the captain finally inquired, voice low. Paz finally looked up, somehow surprised to find them hauling ass down a near empty street. Night had already fallen, apparently long ago, and there were only a few other people out. Desh, of course, had somehow wound to her other side, both Hylerians shielding her as they quickly distanced themselves from the hall. Presumably they were headed in the direction of the slums.

Gulping back her anxiety Paz managed a nod. “Ye. I…” What, was she supposed to _thank_ him for the opportunity? Absolutely not. She stopped there, allowing him to hold her tight to his side and just get out of there. It was weak of her, she realized that, but she didn’t know what else to do.

“That was stupid,” Desh remarked under his breath the second they were climbing down into the slums. “Shouldn’t have done that.”

“Ye, well, I didn’t think _this_ would happen,” Coram replied over Paz’s head. He hadn’t let go of her, and for once Paz didn’t mind. She needed someone who was grounded at the moment, someone who could keep her in check. He might be just like her but he seemed to have so much more control over himself. How? Was that why they had no vices aboard the Lakai? Did it really affect her that much? Was she really that weak?

“Really?” Desh countered, and she didn’t need to look to know he was eyeballing the captain like he was an idiot. “You _really_ thought everything’d be fine?”

“It got out of hand,” Coram admitted, but he didn’t confess anything else. Instead he pulled her around a corner, guiding them down a tight alley filled with loiterers. Restaurants lined the road, and most of the lingering crowds were chatting amongst one another while smoking. Gross as it was walking through clouds of vapor, she knew why he’d chosen the path. This way he didn’t have to talk and Desh couldn’t keep accusing him. Clever.

She wished she were that smart. Sniffing, Paz tried to stop the spiral of bad thoughts. Not right now. She’d think about this nonsense later. Later.

Okay, later wasn’t happening. Least she could blame the vapor for her watery eyes, quickly bringing up her hands to wipe away any signs of tears. The captain’s arm tightened around her.

 _You’re fine_ , he pinged, and she sincerely hoped this was a private conversation. Desh didn’t need to know how weak-minded she was. Well, he’d probably appreciate knowing she had some real weaknesses he could exploit, but now was not the time. _You take anything?_

Now she really was crying, something she never ever _ever_ wished to do in front of others. Thanks, Coram. She didn’t know why, either. It wasn’t like anything had even happened, short of disappointing some poor girl she thought she’d connected quite well with, and taking advantage of her, and reciprocating emotions knowing full well nothing was going to come out of it. Fuck, what _was_ this?

“Hey, come on,” Coram murmured, pulling her toward the alley wall, making space beside a group of laughing girls. Desh, though he clearly didn’t want to, took watch in front of them while the captain stooped and put her back to the wall. “It’s okay. You’re fine. Thought you wanted to dance. Didn’t you?”

He was being way too nice. She didn’t trust him like this, shrinking back to the wall to provide more distance and wiping at her face even faster, _willing_ her heart to stop beating so fast, desperate to stop feeling so out of control. Talking to him was useless. No, no, she wasn’t going to tell him anything. He wouldn’t get it, and he wouldn’t care. She knew he wouldn’t. They needed to leave. Needed to get off this rock.

“Let’s go.” She carefully avoided his gaze, latching onto Desh’s opinion of the situation. “This is stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” he quietly argued, ducking to get a good look at her. She hated that her gaze was drawn to his pretty face, and the fact he had both arms drawn up around her was highly embarrassing. She really couldn’t take him seriously like this, not when he was being so…nice. “Really. You okay?”

“Ye,” she hoarsely exclaimed, a lot more loudly than she meant to. It felt appropriate to duck under his arm and slip away but he was too close. Taking a deep breath she forced her eyes up to the flashing buildings behind him. Each word was an effort to choke out. “Ye, I’m fine. Let’s go.”

It looked like he was going to relent but he stayed where he was, blue eyes still searching her. “Huasca’s intense. It’ll wear off in a couple hours.”

How’d he— She straightened up to full height, glaring at him. She’d had huasca before, obviously, albeit with other things in her system, and alone with Sam in their room. Despite that, she didn’t know it could have these…effects. The fact he _insinuated_ she did however was irritating, just enough to make her snap, “I didn’t take anything.”

“Your pupils are dilated and you’re sweating like you just ran a race,” he retorted. “Kind of looks like you did.”

Okay, fine. Both hands clasped together at her abdomen, fingers jittery. “I didn’t know.”

For the amount of times she’d ingested all sorts of things, she should’ve. How the signs made it past her she had no clue.

“That’s what happens when you try to play with the big kids,” he patiently explained, quiet enough Desh wasn’t going to hear. “Next time don’t gravitate to the epicenter of the party, not if you’re not ready.”

“Then why’d you let me?” she hissed, sulking now along with her tears. Fuck, why couldn’t she stop crying?

 _Because I was distracted_ , he pinged, like admitting that out loud was a crime. The way it came across though made her pause, catching his gaze for a second. He was staring at her, face serious, but neutral. Eyeing her like he was trying to convey something he couldn’t quite…say.

She didn’t want to think about that. Sniffing hard, she wiped at her nose one more time and made herself look to his elbow. He was a dick. Didn’t matter if he could be nice, he was still a dick and always would be.

“We were talking,” he told her, tone odd. “I can’t keep an eye on you at all times.”

 _That_ sounded more like the good old bastard captain she knew. Using it to her advantage Paz uttered a final, haughty sniff and shrugged. “Whatever. It’s—fine. Can we go?”

He continued staring for several more, agonizingly long moments before he let up, pushing back and turning round to Desh. The other Hylerian glanced back at her, grimaced, and promptly headed off. Coram did the same, leading Paz to believe she was…supposed to follow? No one ever bothered telling her the important bits, which made her scowl, which was better than continuing to cry.

She set off after the captain, more than happy to dwell in her anger than whatever else she’d felt earlier on, and she did so all the way back to Rahm’s home. Never mind the unspoken…thing with the captain. Never mind Caramel Eyes.

Never mind the soul crushing anxiety trying to claw its way up her bones.


	35. Ch 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, Paz wants some fun and they're not about to let her have it. So, of course she's going to find a way around Coram and Desh's no-fun policy >:)

The worst part of her ‘excursion’ into Beta, she realized later that night after restlessly tossing in the bed Rahm politely appointed her, was that she hadn’t _done_ anything she’d wanted to do. She’d had a brief stint of fun, yes, but it’d led nowhere.

Paz wanted a real trip. Real fun. And, if it had to be said (it needed to be said), she wanted some attention, of the physical sort.

She was fucking _aching_ for it and if she didn’t get it soon she was going to go out of her mind.

Any dream of that actually happening was quickly shot down the next morning when she arrived in the kitchen fully dressed and asking when they were headed into Beta’s epicenter. Desh took one look at her and snorted. He enjoyed informing her that _she_ was going nowhere because she couldn’t handle colony life.

She sorely regretted having let him out of cryo a couple days ago and he narrowly avoided a cup thrown at his head. Coram, unfortunately, did rigidly agree, which signaled to her that his nice-guy act from the previous night was definitely a sham. See? She knew better than to trust him.

Regardless, because she couldn’t handle herself and because there were things they needed to check out without watching her (she hated them both so much; she’d been _fine_ until they’d let her loose), she would stay with Rahm. Rahm at least seemed pleased about this. She obviously was not but couldn’t voice this to Rahm, not when he’d been genuinely kind to her.

Thus she argued a little at the kitchen counter, bitched about how it was their fault and not hers, but in the end Paz was left in the rec room with Rahm while the other two set off well past dawn with intentions they hadn’t shared with her. Least Rahm kindly asked if she wanted to hang around in his main shop. She did, if only because there might be people up there. Also, the older Hylerian bribed her with the promise of showing her other tech if she came up with him. It was a ploy so she could be watched, she knew it was, though it was something she could keep occupied with.

He showed her up to the main shop above the house shortly after they’d eaten. Paz appreciated ground level, mostly content to creep through aisles of tech looking stuff while watching the stream of people bustling past the shop’s slatted windows. Rahm’s shop faced a busy street and even if it was in the slums, it still counted as prime real estate. He hawked all sorts of junk: external comms, spare parts for drives, a plethora of wires she couldn’t begin to identify, and bio-matter canisters that’d last someone decades if they were conservative. An array of other things she couldn’t name lined the shelves and she’d ask what they all were but she wasn’t exactly as interested as she thought she’d be.

Besides, the customers who quickly filed in once Rahm opened shop were slightly more interesting. Folks of all shapes and sizes came in: crusty looking bottom dwellers to people she could only imagine lived in the nice penthouses they’d passed last night. Paz eyed each and every one of them, careful to stay in the back and keep her face out of sight. Rahm didn’t seem to think anyone would care what face she wore so she’d gone with her own.

Just two Hylerians manning a shop, in Beta. That was apparently normal down here in the slums.

Well, to be honest Rahm didn’t look very Hylerian. She took note the longer she studied both him and his customers, the Hylerian chatting all up with surprising pleasantness. He did, clearly, with the height and sharp face, but he carried himself differently than Coram or Desh. He acted…Federation born, like her. It could all be an act (he _had_ squatted in the Nav’s shadow for some time) but she wasn’t reading it that way. Honestly it was hard to believe he was the same guy who’d allegedly spent his prime targeting and picking off Nav ships.

Don’t think for one moment she’d forgotten that bit.

His customers certainly weren’t coming to him for his background however. Most entered the dusty shop looking to sell salvaged scrap tech or have it fixed. Few actually browsed the shelves like she did. How’d he make money if all he did was buy salvage or fix small parts?

Fascinating as that thought probably was she’d grown insanely bored within an hour of his opening. Because of this, and because her minder was pretty busy, she curled up in a back corner amongst some heavy parts and dozed off, still trying to keep her thoughts off the previous night.

It wasn’t working and she barely managed any rest, more preoccupied with how unfair it was she hadn’t been given a fair shake here, and how she’d probably never get another chance because Val certainly wouldn’t ever let her run around in a colony. Unlike a certain captain, Val wasn’t an idiot. They’d probably leave in a couple days and she’d never see the inside of a colony again, not even Daysturis. She’d gotten close to going in there once, had nearly convinced Sam to take her, but that’d been foiled, again, by the stupid captain.

And, much as she liked Rahm, his line about not caring what she did or where she went was definitely false. He was baby-sitting her, after all.

She could test her boundaries. Could walk right out and see what happened. After last night she wasn’t interested in making a scene, not in public anyway. No, she didn’t want to draw any attention from anyone at all. It’d be easy when the other two returned. Unless it was necessary, they didn’t pay her any mind already.

Here, however, doing anything would result in either Rahm dropping everything to come wrangle her or the others appearing out of thin air to do the same. She wasn’t _that_ stupid; she knew where she stood.

Honestly, she wanted to be alone. Just her. No stupid guys. No minders. Room to stretch out on her own, like at the beach. Even if she needed a ride home, it’d be so nice to disappear for a couple minutes.

Wait—why couldn’t she? Pushing out of her pseudo-nap, Paz leaned over her knees and frowned at the grated floor while her thoughts spun together. Several meters away Rahm was joking about particulates with another customer. His laughter disappeared as she drowned him out, focusing solely on a memory from long ago.

Mandrelle…

Sentia used to fuck with his mods until he was practically invisible. It came in handy when he’d been the only head-hunter on the Osiris. Being an exceptionally large guy prone to loud steps and such, he’d needed every possible advantage whenever Val sent him off to find customers who didn’t pay or rivals who needed to be put in their place. Hence, Sentia’s updates.

If she could do it, why couldn’t Paz?

She knew nothing about modding, that was why.

But she’d known nothing about how electricity interacted with a body and that hadn’t stopped her previously. She hadn’t known a thing about working cryo-pods either and that’d somehow lucked out in her favor. Really, the only thing currently stopping her was she didn’t know where to begin.

Mods usually required credits. Her comm’s surface mods apparently didn’t, which was awesome, but she suspected there wasn’t an option for ‘invisible’. That’d be too convenient.

She looked anyway in her comm’s many files and menus, hoping for a shortcut. Nothing so far as she could see, and while she realized she had all day she gave up pretty easily. Where did one begin looking for something that might not even exist? If she really wanted it then she’d acquire some credits and buy the damn mod herself (again, if she could find it—those kinds of modifications weren’t exactly…Nav-approved, but then neither was lotus). Credits required having an identity however and she could call herself Kamul all she wanted; it wasn’t going to make her rich in a couple days.

Having to stay here severely limited her options. Sighing heavily, she set aside the notion of disappearing and slumped amongst rusting machinery.

“Is someone bored?” Rahm inquired, amused voice filling up the whole shop. Figuring he was in a lull, Paz groaned.

“Maybe.”

“Mm, bored Hylerians are never good to have around,” he commented, and she wasn’t sure if she should be offended or proud of that fact. Tilting her chin, Paz slid her gaze to the nearest shelves while he continued. “Want to see the insides of a propulsion drone?”

She didn’t know what that meant yet she hauled to her feet anyway, slowly dragging herself over to the shop counter where Rahm brandished some kind of steel cylinder. Wires and other guts hung out of the casing. He was grinning like he couldn’t wait to tell her what was going on in there.

Her eyes widened as she drew closer, thoughts returning to her comm. He was probably the best person there was to show her what could be done with it. If she just…played along and listened to him gush about parts for a while, she could probably convince him to figure out how to hook her comm up to public networks and potentially find free mods. That was the goal, anyway. She had no idea if it was possible, but she’d try.

It wasn’t like she had anything better to do today.

She listened where she could but to be honest Paz zoned out soon as he pulled out cables to explain what all the thing did. Rahm definitely enjoyed his dissection of tech, engaged and offering ‘fun’ facts like she might remember them. She tried, picking up parts he’d already gutted and examining them, again wondering what it was he specifically did in here. Scrapped tech, duh, but why? She couldn’t help asking by the time he hoisted another part, some kind of turbine, to show her.

“So you spend all your time just…fixing things?” she wondered, half lounging on the counter next to him, frowning at other bits of scrap around them. Never in a million years would something like this be fulfilling to her. She had no idea why she’d thought it would.

“Ye, mostly,” he answered, sighing happily. “Retirement’s fairly nice.”

“That’s what this is?” she slouched further on the counter, feeling like she’d melt right off if he kept delving into tech details. “Hanging out in the same spot? You’ve got friends or whatever, don’t you? It’s not always just you, ye?”

“Is this that boring to you?” he teased, grinning at her regardless. His current project was set down and he hopped up on the counter on his rump, sympathetically patting her shoulder. “Yes, Miss Paz. I do have friends. I keep busy.”

“Are these friends more like coworkers?” she guessed, words mushed from her cheek on the cool metal surface. At least it coaxed a laugh out of him.

“That can be both, can’t they? What of yourself, darling? Your companions I can understand the shunning, but what about elsewhere?”

She smiled faintly. “Osiris is my home and family, I guess. They’re what I know, what I like.”

“ _The_ Osiris,” he idly clarified, legs kicking against stuffed shelves beneath them. “Run by Valeree Omorin, ye?”

Paz’s smile grew as she realized what he alluded to. “Ye, _that_ Osiris, with _that_ crew. If you like lotus I could get you a nice deal in the future.”

“No, thanks,” he declined, though he didn’t sounded disgusted. How refreshing. “I have…other vices to keep occupied, but I appreciate the offer. Do you like it there? Doing that?”

See, if Coram had gone this route she might’ve been more open—maybe. Well, probably not, but she could pretend she was reasonable at times. Paz’s shoulders sank.

“Ye. It’s nice. Crew tolerates me, and I can do whatever I want.” She paused, noticing the raised brow he’d directed her way. “What?”

“I heard you weren’t there voluntarily, either,” he lightly mentioned, head bobbing. “That true?”

This wasn’t what Paz had in mind while trying to enlist his expertise. She pulled back from the counter and dropped to the floor, legs tangling together.

“Whoever told you that is a liar.” She looked down at her lap, quietly adding, “I’m part of their crew. I want to be there.”

Rahm eyed her expectantly but he didn’t comment further. Instead he twisted to check the front door. “Mm. Bet you learned a lot working for Val. Tell me, has her sense of humor never improved?”

Paz couldn’t keep her snicker in though she recovered quickly, screwing her features up at him a beat later. “You know her?”

“We’ve met,” he revealed with a slight shrug of brawny shoulders. “Had a mutual job once. From what I remember she was a hard-ass even as a kid.”

It’d been a while then, likely before Paz had been around. Val had flatly refused buying further Hylerians or let her near others that were any more important than house staff for various clients. Paz never understood why, but she’d never cared, either. She still didn’t.

She let it go even now, smirking at the floor. “Ye, she’s about the same.”

“Heard she sells some quality product.”

“She does.” What was this, some kind of interrogation? “She has one of the best producers.”

“And I suppose you’ve tested most batches?”

Paz was beaming now, ready to tell him all about Sam and his brilliance in producing the best strains of lotus as efficiently as possible. “I have.”

And yet even if he didn’t mean to, Rahm’s sudden wince and hiss of air brought shameful color to Paz’s cheeks. He took note of her suddenly huddled figure, clearing his throat.

“Sorry, it’s just—difficult to hear that coming from your mouth. Your father—”

Cutting him off with a rude noise, she was automatically up and searching nearby shelves for anything remotely eye-catching. “Nah, we’re not talking about that, ye? I have nothing to do with that guy, end of story.”

Rahm started protesting but stopped, chuckling softly as he watched her uncomfortably pace. “If that’s what you wish. What would keep you from boredom, Miss Paz?”

Back to him, Paz smiled victoriously. She swiveled around on her heels and batted her eyelashes, sweetly asking, “Could you show me how to connect to Beta’s networks? I’ll keep to myself, I swear—I just want to catch up on my vids.”

And between her follow up ‘please’s and the big, definitely innocent eyes directed his way, Rahm caved in fairly easily. She had him guiding her through the necessary steps in between customers, drinking in everything he could teach her about comms. Some things he dictated didn’t ring true with her own but it was similar enough to what he called ‘generics’ that she could muddle through. Over the course of a couple hours she slowly built up an arsenal of comm knowledge, adding securities here and there, activating the license for her fake name and such, until—

Until her comm snapped onto Beta’s public network and suddenly there was a vast well of information, advertisements and entertainment hiding just behind her eyes. The second Paz caught sight of the familiar distractions she jumped on Rahm and hugged him tight. He tried playing it off (a customer had just come in) but she couldn’t let go, not without a few more ‘thank-you’s and a quick peck on the cheek before he was swatting her away. She giddily left him alone at that point, quickly disappearing through the shop’s backdoor and downstairs to the quiet haven that was his home, ruining that peace all the way to her own room with eager whoops and self-congratulation.

He’d just given her the most freedom she’d had in what felt like ages and didn’t even know it. Now, she wasn’t any good at working comms of any sort, but so long as she had a network to ask questions to she’d certainly figure out the rest.


	36. Ch 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here we find Paz pushing something fierce to prep and get out of Rahm's house ASAP. I'm totally rushing to get to the next chapter cos some good shit's about to go down and I'm proud of it <3

All in all it took the majority of the rest of the day to get the hang of things on her comm. It was boring and at times she nearly fell asleep, but she forced herself to focus and learn as much as she could from numerous network forums filled to the brim with scrupulous how-to’s and even more suspect guides. Real tricks awaited her in such places; she just had to weed through the rotten shit first.

She’d locked herself in her allotted room, curling up amongst blankets and scouring these forums in search of what she wanted—how to become invisible, and how to forge her identity and credits. She found them in some sleazy corner of the network, sure, but it was well worth it even if she did have to witness some truly vile things to access them first. Some things were intriguing; most weren’t.

It felt like it’d been forever since she’d been so connected. Even if the sleaze was a little overwhelming she didn’t care. All that mattered was gathering what she needed. Who cared if Nav securities caught on? She’d be long gone by the time they did. By late afternoon she had a beginner’s mod kit to build, tweak, and then apply.

She was going to go out tonight, she’d decided, and it was going to be as careless and wonderful as she wished. No one would be able to stop her until they needed to collect her because she’d finally figured out how to go dark, and how to fake credits, so any worries would be left for later. Coram and Desh would _love_ her terrible version of ingenuity.

She appreciated that she was being left alone thus far, a great help when it came to trying to add these stupidly complicated modifications to her arsenal. Paz really couldn’t wait until she never had to deal with them again. Using them would be the easiest part. Actually hooking them up to her comm? Goddamn, this was why the Osiris had a tech guru aboard—nobody else wanted to deal with complicated bullshit. She certainly didn’t.

By sundown she could hear others banging around Rahm’s home. She had a severe headache at that point and her eyes hurt like hell from so much constant flipping back and forth between menus. On the plus side she’d fashioned a dress out of one of the longer shirts borrowed from Rahm, something that came out of needing to keep her hands busy while she wrecked havoc on her comm. If she was going to head out, she might as well do it in style.

Still no one came to bug her, at all. While she enjoyed the peace Paz found it odd—the others liked bugging her as much as she liked antagonizing them. Also, had she been in their shoes she would’ve at least checked in to ensure she was still there, but since nobody was…

She casually stepped out and wound through the halls later on in the evening, heading to the kitchen. If she was going out she’d need something in her stomach. Sam would’ve told her to do that, anyway. Wandering around gave her a better idea of who was around, too, and who to avoid when she did attempt her temporary escape. She’d passed Rahm in the rec area and chatted a bit, lying about the several shows she’d ‘caught’ up on and thanking him again for his help. He was rather bashful about the whole thing so she saved him the embarrassment and swiftly zipped off to the kitchen next in search of whatever he’d made earlier.

Desh brooded at the only countertop there was, barely acknowledging her beyond a cursory glance from a tablet he was reading. Coram, she noted, was conspicuously missing.

“Where’s your buddy?” she asked, draining a glass of cold tea from Rahm’s impeccable fridge.

“Busy,” came Desh’s equally cold grunt. He’d gone back to the tablet, brow low. Pausing, Paz studied him a bit before smirking.

“Really,” she drawled, sidling up to the counter with him. “So you two are done planning and everything?”

“Mostly.” His displeasure was showing. How could she not poke at him now? Paz kept going.

“Mm, and you’re not going over those mysterious final details? How uncharacteristic. I thought you guys would be attached at the hip until you figured it all out.”

His jaw twitched but he didn’t address her, not directly. “Why do you care?”

Oh, she cared for several reasons, but mostly because she liked pissing him off.

“Uh, because I’d rather not nearly die?” she petulantly bitched, hands working with her words. “You know, like how the past couple things you two concocted went?”

“I didn’t approve anything about those,” he seethed, upper lip curling. Desh was already moving out of his seat, anxious to get away from her. “Leaving will be nothing like how we arrived.”

“Sure hope not,” she muttered, sliding away as well to look for more food. “No offense but you two really aren’t the best task buddies.”

“Neither are you,” he loudly exclaimed, scraping back his chair and stalking off, more upset than Paz thought her comment warranted. She froze by the fridge, watching him stomp for the hall. “Can’t go anywhere without _you_ fucking everything up.”

“Uh, I saved your ass,” she hollered, needing to point that out in case he’d forgotten. “At least once—potentially twice!”

“Ah ye, coming from someone like you that’s fucking amazing,” he sarcastically snapped back, hanging in the doorway to cut a very offended glare her way. Forgetting food, Paz placed both hands on her hips. She’d meant to snip at him but not on this level, and she had a feeling she knew what he meant but she wanted to hear him say it; wanted to know exactly what he thought of her.

“Like _me_?”

His glare narrowed, somehow more lethal than before. “Ye, like _you_ —like some fucking lotus eater. Like some selfish, careless bitch.”

Oh. _Oh_ , that last one had been personal, but the first pissed her off more. Was it because of last night? She thought she’d done really well lately, and it wasn’t like she’d even nabbed lotus last night, so really he was labelling her the wrong thing already.

While she stood there letting his barbs process, Desh had already ducked out with a huff of bitter resignation, leaving her on her own. Paz didn’t realize she was shaking until she looked down at her clenched, quivering fists. She was _not_ a lotus eater—she’d barely ever even heard the term but she knew he hadn’t used it as a compliment. She wasn’t—it wasn’t like that. Coram and Desh probably referred to her like that all the time. What douchebags.

“You’re just jealous you can’t have fun,” she shot back beneath her breath, well aware Desh’d never hear it. Whatever. He was pissed about a lot of things, even she’d caught on to that, so she tried not to dwell on it and grabbed a banana from a basket near the tablet. If she was nosy she’d snoop over its contents but she had no interest. No, there were absolutely more important things to do tonight, and if all went well she’d be able to use her skills in the future, too.

Tch, time to show them what a lotus eater could really do.

She slipped back through the halls without another word, not even to Rahm as she passed by. Coram was still nowhere in sight—he must’ve knocked out early or was still out finishing the business Desh didn’t want to talk about. Either way his whereabouts mattered little. The second she was back in her room she went about prepping. First came the periwinkle blue dress-shirt she’d make cuter later with mods but would do for now—she’d rolled up the short sleeves and stretched out the neckline until it looked more suitable for her. A makeshift belt of twine scavenged from the kitchen went around her waist, giving the impression of what curves lay beneath. It was shabby, yes, but without a bralette she figured it’d pass as sexy, at least around here.

With that secure she took residence in front of a small mirror situated near the door, staring hard at her normal face while pulling open several displays on her comm. The trick was to layer, or else she’d end up naked-faced in a place she probably didn’t want to be in. Her previous pretty face, while generic and lovely, wasn’t what she wanted tonight. She wanted sexy. Cute. Universally enthralling, because she’d need it to score what she wanted.

With access to Beta’s network she’d found the face of an actress she liked, molding her temporarily features to that of a sweet, button-nosed, sheltered Beta girl with platinum blonde hair that fell to her waist in curls she couldn’t even begin to _hope_ for in reality. The hair she’d only figured out an hour ago how to lengthen, so of course she wanted the illusion to be as long as possible.

Once the hot blonde chick with demure brown eyes staring back at her appeared satisfied, Paz started in on the next, definitely more important layer. She didn’t know why she’d become so obsessed with these things; she just wanted…to do things her own way, without any obstacles. She’d likely never get to experience Centurion Beta again, so she’d like to have fun while she was here.

Just one night, okay? Just this once. Then she’d roll over until she could go home. For everything the Lakai had put her through, she deserved a break.

“You can do this,” she murmured several times, each time quieter than the last. She could. She could definitely do it; she’d watched a dozen tutorials over and over this afternoon and studied the necessary conversions. Kamul Lapata was going to disappear. Physically, of course; not over her comm. “Come on, you got this…”

She shut her eyes, waiting for the barrier to fall into place. This had to work. It _had_ to, or else she might do more than throw a cup at Desh or Coram next time she saw their smarmy faces. A little afraid to really look, she made herself crack open one eyelid, squinting at the mirror.

_Please work, please work, please work_ …

The blonde wasn’t there anymore. No one was. Gasping, Paz glanced down. Nothing. No body. She was gone. Invisible for all intents and purposes.

Hah!

“Let’s see them try and stop me now,” she gleefully squealed to herself, dancing around a second before recomposing herself. Back at the mirror she peeled the invisible layer on and off, enough times to ensure she could do it later. Perfect. Settling on her invisible shield once more she took a deep breath, then quietly slid open her door and tiptoed out.

Best case scenario she returned before tomorrow morning without anyone noticing. Worst case scenario, the far more likely one since she probably wouldn’t be able to get back in, she’d show up at the front door after dawn with a happy, diluted dace and pissed Hylerians to greet her. Either was bearable, and with that in mind she slinked through Rahm’s home, quietly making her way to the exit. She made a wide birth around Rahm in the rec area, but after that she was hustling down the exit hall they’d entered from and scrambling up the small set of stairs to the top.

As she practically whooshed through the front door she already had only one thing on her mind, and one thing only. Tonight she was going to experience Beta, and she was going to experience it the only way she knew how—with substances. Not only would it take care of some personal needs but it’d also fulfill her unending desire to see Beta’s true potential.

It was going to be everything she needed and more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes yes yes yes go Paz, go! You got this!


	37. Ch 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paz gets everything she wants and more :3 TW: sex, drug use, alcohol, questionable decisions. Jesus, this is her territory.

Beta’s slums were huge in their own right, something Paz apparently hadn’t paid attention to previously as she wound through its neon-coated alleys sometime long after night had fallen. She felt a bit lost and out of place, the beautiful new face she’d finally donned attracting attention she wasn’t yet ready for. Still, she forged through the slums with the curiosity of a university student, enthralled by the millions of advertisements above and the endless sea of glittering people around her. The slums, it seemed, had a nightlife all its own, potentially rivaling that of Beta’s inner city. She might never see that area again, but here…here, it seemed like she’d find plenty of ways to have fun.

Colonies existed solely for fun as far as she was concerned, and she’d been deprived.

It’d been nerve-wracking joining the crowds at first, definitely when she’d first been hollered at by a bunch of drunkards, but soon enough she got the hang of things. She’d never been a pussy, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to let a couple dicks ruin her time. Besides, that was part of the allure. If no one noticed her getup then she honestly would’ve been disappointed. The next ten times it happened she happily threw insults back at groups of giggling people, all of whom delighted in her unwarranted attention.

And, soon enough, it was clear she’d emerged into the streets at the right time. Beta’s nightlife was for people like her, she very quickly realized.

Every street, every new turn brought more overwhelming things for her to be awestruck over. When she wasn’t staring obviously at beautiful people or ads for delicious food she’d never heard of, she was forcing herself through the moving sea, stumbling past all sorts of venues in a pleasant daze. So much vice in one place, so little time to pick and choose what to do first. One thing was for certain; she’d never seen so many near-naked bodies in real life before, many advertising right outside respective businesses.

Most of those were ignored, if only because she didn’t need a brothel for tonight—she just needed a place where she could score lotus and some booze. _That_ in itself would take care of her physical needs soon enough. Having already scouted out the best reviewed bars around Rahm’s home she fought her way to one she thought might be worth visiting. It was only supposed to be a couple blocks away, but because she had no sense of direction down here she spent a good half hour muddling through more packed streets to find it.

By the time she’d waded through it’s well-worn exterior she’d added a few modifications to her dress: a metallic clasp around one sleeve and glitter rippling down both sides of the shirt, something that’d definitely catch someone’s eye. It had to look good or else she’d never get what she wanted.

There was only one rule about lotus and one rule only—unless she was Reeser, she couldn’t just go up and start asking for it, especially not if she appeared painfully out of place. She’d learned that too many times at fuel stops in the past. This way she at least looked like she belonged out here. And, people could be stupid when they were drunk so really, all she needed to do was look pretty and someone would eventually come up and offer a good time.

And this place was _packed_. She’d definitely hook someone who had lotus.

Finding the bar took a moment. When she did she wedged against a nearby wall, tepidly scanning her options. The bar’s music was loud and genre-less. It was hot in there with so many bodies packed together. Every minute she stood there was a mixture between being highly uncomfortable while ignoring gawking stares from the most diverse crowd she’d seen in Beta, and basking in the unsolicited attention. Yes, this is what she’d wanted but she wasn’t in the zone yet. Inhibitions needed to be muted first so her bravado could emerge. Then she’d be back to normal instead of like last night, when she hadn’t known what to do with so much at her disposal.

Thankfully it was easy enough to order from the bar via comm instead of fighting for a spot in front of various bartenders. Paz did just that with forged credits she’d created on the way in (she felt like a genius for that alone), lining up multiple shots of whiskey and then something lighter to keep it going. As her orders came she grew painfully aware of how awkward being in a colony bar, alone, was.

On her solo missions in the void fuel depot taverns were an entirely different beast. Everyone was alone there, and therefore more friendly. More willing to chat and trade stories—and sometimes substances or physical affection. Here, however, it was like everyone around her was already in established groups that would stare at her but nothing more. _Why not_? She began worrying she might not find someone, not when she wasn’t summoning up the right amount of swagger.

Yet, the more alcohol she knocked back the looser those worries became. Maybe she wouldn’t even need to find someone with product but Paz was nothing if not consistent when it came to illicit behavior. It was necessary for a good time. She didn’t want to know her own name by the end of the night—she wanted fucking bliss.

Lotus was a sedative, one which made her melt into any surface, but if mixed with alcohol it became an entirely different beast, and that combination was the only way she knew how to achieve pure euphoria. Fuck Coram and Desh for judging her. There were just some things she couldn’t give up, not now.

There was a move she used to do with Sam, something she hated to think about tonight but it bubbled up the more she rounded the bar searching for people who might be willing to open up to her. Every once in a while she and Sam would head to a colony dock’s local tavern so they could scout potential new customers. One, it gave Paz something fun to do and two, it’d get Sam away from Val for a while, both necessary things within the Osiris crew if Val didn’t want a Hylerian tantrum on her hands. They hadn’t done it in ages, though now Paz was wondering why not. It’d always netted them extra credits, perhaps a new partner for her, and entertainment for Sam.

The rouse was simple enough once they’d arrived: she’d traipse from whatever booth or table Sam commandeered and slowly waltz around, making fluttery eye contact with anyone who looked like a—fine, a l _otus eater_ , as Desh called it. All she had to do was flip the script. Easy enough.

In this bar she abandoned her spot by the wall and began the slow dance around the main room while sipping a daiquiri, emulating customer behavior. It wasn’t hard—pretend to be bored, like she was too cool to be here. Like she secretly knew how to liven this place up if _only_ the right person would come along.

Some pretty woman eventually took the hint, blocking Paz’s wandering and straight up asking if she wanted ‘some’. She looked a little like Caramel Eyes from the night before, which of course meant Paz couldn’t say no. Nodding, she followed her to a washroom deep in the back to exchange (fake) credits and just a little bit more. Soon as the transaction cleared she handed Paz a little baggie of pink crystals with a bright smile.

Honestly, Paz was pretty sure she never saw her again. Not that she could tell, or cared. Her dose was immediately swallowed and once she was out of the washroom everything became a pleasant blur of color and noise. The bar faded away, lotus taking hold and mixing with the whiskey. Her skin heated up, thoughts traded for a happy, out-of-body buzz. A dance floor appeared beneath her boots and suddenly she had the opportunity to make up for last night’s mistakes. Under glittering lights that never-ending mass of bodies pressed closer and closer. Time blurred. Hands groped; people attempted engaging with her. None of it, none of them mattered any longer. She’d self-medicated; she had everything she needed. All she wanted to do was keep moving, keep feeling this high. Absolutely nothing could stop her now.

It _was_ a little jarring when her back hit a wall with some random dude’s tongue down her throat, his body feverishly pressed to hers like making out was the only thing he was currently capable of. She was just as bad, holding him in that position and groaning into his sweet mouth, _more_ than happy to reciprocate and grinding against his huge, strong thigh. How this happened she didn’t know, didn’t care, carelessly rolling with it. The rest of Beta was forgotten—she didn’t even know where they were. She just wanted him to keep touching her because, like everything in this state, it felt _amazing_.

Her skin burned pleasurably. One leg hooked over his hip—or tried (he was really tall), and she clung to him when he broke away to suck on her neck. It made her want to scream; she was out of her mind at this point and he had no right to be so good at whatever this was. Thankfully she didn’t, banging her head against the wall instead.

Holy fuck, she wanted more and she wanted it _now_.

Pausing to catch his breath he looked her over beneath hooded lids. He reminded her of someone, she didn’t know who, but she was in love with his eyes. They were so pretty, sparking gold when lights flashed over them both. Strobe lights. Damn, looking around Paz realized they weren’t in the same bar she’d originated from. The very idea pushed a hazy laugh from her chest. Long as she sobered up and and was back at Rahm’s (eventually) she was fine with whatever.

Damp forehead on hers he smiled, subtly grinding on her like he couldn’t help it. Something rather impressive was pushing against her, demanding her attention. “Like that? Told you I’d find someplace quieter.”

Barely. She could hardly hear him, let alone remember him telling her this previously—had they spoken before now? She really didn’t know. Nodding like an idiot she reached up and wrapped both arms around his neck, chin tilting to demand more action. He easily stooped to comply and Paz closed her eyes, lost in his embrace for who knew how long, kiss growing deeper and deeper and damn, this was turning her on _immensely_. She hadn’t felt this way in ages, not even with Sam. Everything about this guy was driving her insane with need.

She couldn’t take it. It was like her body had forgotten she had a brain, demanding more and more and more. Breaking away, she deliriously nipped at his collar, grinning at his sharp inhale. “We should…”

He drew to full attention, holding her tighter, breath in hers. “You want to?”

“ _Yes_.” Fuck yes. It was all she’d wanted for _ages_. Her dose was wearing off just a tad which was the best state—she was functional but still hyper-fixated on pleasure. Paz’s lips trailed down his neck and back up across his jaw. It was a tiny bit scruffy, just enough to make her shiver like some lush slut. Tch, _slut_. As if she cared. “Yes— _now_.”

“Here?” he suggested with a sly grin, already glancing left and right. “Oh, I know—this way.”

Why did he sound so familiar? Paz couldn’t think straight. She swore she’d heard that voice before but she couldn’t—she knew essentially no one here. Whatever. She giggled as he tugged her along, navigating through a semi-busy establishment and diving into what looked like a dizzying maze of halls. It was all a blur to her. She was more focused on his ass and the strong tendons in his hands keeping her moving whenever she lagged. Every time he looked back he pulled that stupid infatuated look all guys developed when they were horny. It was fantastic on him. So long as he wasn’t a biter she’d probably follow him anywhere tonight, at least until she sobered up.

Somehow he hit gold and pulled open an unlocked door, herding them both into what appeared to be a supply closet. They were about as quiet as one would expect, stumbling in like giddy teenagers.

“Gods,” he groaned, sliding the door shut, gaze fixed elsewhere. Muffled silence immediately surrounded them. Spinning around Paz flashed her teeth—underneath low lighting he was looking at her like he couldn’t stop, shadowed gaze roaming across her body over and over. Glittering eyes surfaced for a second, neck and face tinged red. With a dopey grin he added, “You’re fucking hot, you know that?”

She didn’t say anything; she always got so tongue tied in this state. Instead she mimicked his smile, then whipped about to figure out how they were going to do this. Crates? No. Floor? It was concrete, no thank you. Ah, there were some work cushions rolled up in one corner that could work.

Arms snaked around her waist while he surrounded her, interrupting her already frazzled thought process. Hands deftly dipped beneath her dress’s short hem to slip past the barrier of her belt and up her bare hips and torso. In the meantime his mouth found her neck yet again. Paz’s head tilted in the opposite direction, long blonde locks tumbling away, happy to give him more room to work with. He took the opportunity, one hand holding her hip to him and the other tracing across her breasts, thumb brushing over each aroused nipple. She couldn’t help arching her spine, moaning in response. It obviously pleased him, a rumble pushing from his chest. Well, with him pressing into her backside she kind of already knew that.

“What do you wanna do?” he demanded in a low hum, words whispering against her ear. “I’m up for anything.”

Paz’s head rolled back, eyes shuttering. His right hand was pinching one sensitive little nub and she didn’t know how to respond. She did, sure, but she just wanted to fall back and let him have his way.

“You like that?” he cooed, lips grazing one earlobe, fingers twisting. They were clearly past manners or formalities. Keening, she nodded and pushed back. Maneuvering around he sandwiched her between himself and the door as he resumed both making out and groping. Paz’s hands felt achingly useless. She grabbed his jaw, keeping him close in order for her tongue to work in tandem with his. She liked him. Wherever he’d come from she didn’t care; he was good at his current mission.

After some moaned directions and vague pointing he noticed the cushions and dragged them to the corner. Paz shoved crates and other miscellaneous gear away while he hurriedly unrolled several, creating a makeshift bed. It made her laugh, surprised by his resourcefulness. Something told her he’d done this before. To her, that was a bonus.

Finished and on his knees, he turned and held out a palm. The look he offered was pure, unadulterated want. Paz wanted to take that hand and fall into the nest with him, badly, but she was starting to see things more clearly, beginning to realize that this had not been her original intent (honestly, she’d kind of assumed she’d work her way through _many_ people tonight). She didn’t even know who this guy was, didn’t know where he came from or where they were. What time was it? She hadn’t checked her comm in what felt like forever. What if he killed her? Wait, why would she think that?

Paranoia, that’s what.

“Hold on,” she gasped, turning around and reaching into her dress’s single pocket. Damn, everything out her mouth sounded like a gasp, a loose breath instead of her own voice. She did not need someone to see her shaking and entering that awkward phase between high and hitting the ground.

“What’s up?” he calmly wondered, voice smooth as water.

Paz uttered a soft laugh to fill the quiet space, finding the last dose of lotus the lady gave her. “Crashing. Just—one second.”

“You’re holding out on me,” he accused in a tone that clearly indicated he was teasing. Somehow she was relieved about that (ye, she knew she shouldn’t be worried what the random fuck boy thought but come on, she was rusty). “What’ve you got?”

Well, when he put it like that… Swiveling around she proudly showed him her last dose, thoughts already forming a new plan. He was clearly already on something, too. If they both took half she’d be far more coherent and both of them would end up sensitive as fuck. That would be nice. “Want some?”

Dropping down to the cushions he beckoned her over. “Fuck yes. Bring it here—let’s keep this party going.”

Man, where _had_ she found this guy? His muscled body sprawled out amongst the cushions was just… _mmm_. He was the best, like a mirrored version of herself. Paz dropped down next to him in a second, splitting the baggie. It was gone in an instant. Soon as she swallowed she fell back in his embrace, returning to their make out, hands wandering shamelessly. The world blurred once more, providing a euphoria that couldn’t be achieved naturally—had it ever felt like this with Sam? She didn’t remember. All previous experiences couldn’t be compared to her current reality.

This time when he fumbled with the dress she helped him out, yanking it off and straddling his hips. She had to attack him from above and he didn’t seem to mind, hands happily occupied with her upper half, squeezing firm yet giving flesh while grinding on his lap. They were both in a spiral of enjoyment and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Breaking from his lips she scooted back, shaking that long hair behind both shoulders before reaching down to pull at his shirt…and pants while she was down there. Every bit was focused on getting to the next part, the best bit, and she wanted to fuck him _bad_. He was so sexy; he had that nice deep tan even Sam used to pine over and seriously, it was like he was the other half of her deviant self. She was about to extract his (very hard) dick when he harshly grabbed her wrists, struggling to sit up.

“Fuck,” he breathed, glassy eyes fixated on Paz’s stomach. It was like he himself didn’t know what kind of emotions were rising within. “What the fuck, what the fuck, _what the fuck_!”

What was his deal? Startled, Paz glanced down and guessed she’d be surprised by the scars crossing her torso, too, but honestly, was it that big of a deal? She hadn’t bothered blurring those, assuming most people wouldn’t care.

Unwilling to damper their shared high she played it down, ducking to get in his view and offering a hesitant smile. “What, that? Dude, those are old. Come on.”

_Now_ those eyes snapped up to hers, both wide and attentive. Suddenly he was shaking his head, one arm reaching out as if he needed to go. “Fuck, I need—why are you—this isn’t happening.”

“What?” Okay, that came out as a squeak of panic but Paz _was_ somehow panicking, even with lotus melting through her system. “Why? What’s wrong? Want me to put my dress on?”

“It’s not—.” Still beneath her he shakily wiped at his jaw and exhaled heavily before letting his equally murky gaze wander to the stark ceiling. “You shouldn’t be here, Paz.”

Alright. Now she was tripping, too. If he’d wanted her off him he got his wish. She shoved from his lap and onto the cold floor, harshly staring at him and trying to figure this out. It was so hard to focus, so difficult to even take a full breath. She didn’t…who would know her here? They couldn’t. Her face was different. She’d made _sure_ it was the blonde chick’s face as soon as she’d left Rahm’s.

“Who are you?” she breathlessly demanded, which was dumb because she should’ve been asking other questions. _Many_ other questions. “How do you…?”

Grimacing, he slapped one hand to his neck and thumbed behind his ear. A second later a hell of a lot of mods dissipated and suddenly she was sitting, mostly naked, in front of Coram. Granted, he barely looked like he was coherent at the moment but it was definitely him. It was his real face, too. He’d shaved recently, even shaved his head, leaving only a thin layer of that dark hair she’d thoroughly imagined grabbing. Once.

“Oh.” Paz truly didn’t know what else to say so that was it. Looking around for her dress she realized it was nowhere close enough to reel in. Great.

There were too many questions to properly address. She ignored most for now, sure they wouldn’t get her anywhere anyway. She _was_ supposed to be at Rahm’s right now, but…she was also pretty sure he’d never personally approve of this type of behavior, or be caught dead partaking in it. Currently he looked a little like a hypocrite, and she was a bit embarrassed because…well, she didn’t need one of the guys who already probably thought she was a lotus eater to know that…yeah, when given some freedom, that was exactly how she’d chosen to use it.

Despite everything…

Furtively glancing up she found him still startlingly attractive in the moment, all disheveled and high and just as goddamned beautiful as she always imagined him, unfortunately. About a minute ago she thought he _was_ the best thing ever. Was it all fake? Damnit, she wanted some action tonight. It’d been the main reason to get high, the need to get with someone having clouded her mind for ages now.

Sometimes, even her stubborn ass couldn’t salvage whatever pride she had left.

“I…wouldn’t say anything,” she dumbly offered, slowly drawing up both knees, mind on autopilot. She was on another level. Coram, captain of the Lakai and general douchebag, wasn’t who she felt like she was sitting in front of at the moment. He was still the random fuck boy she… _still_ wanted to fuck. Both knees lowered, legs spreading. Like any stupid boy he couldn’t help looking, his gaze staying right where she wanted it. He was clearly conflicted but didn’t move, didn’t get up to leave.

Warm, intense eyes rolled up to meet her quiet stare for hardly a second, flitting elsewhere. His chin jutted, words equally small. “Take off your mask.”

Paz obeyed without question, if only because she’d been programmed to please in this moment. She fumbled (quite a bit, actually, because now she was undoing everything), but managed. It was surreal because he never stopped staring in her direction, as if the more she took off the more he couldn’t help himself. Somewhere in the back of her head, she knew he’d lied. He’d wanted her previously.

Just as much as she’d wanted him.

And without the safeguards they’d both put in place, now they were less than a meter apart with nothing, absolutely nothing, to stop them from exploring that incredibly stupid path.

The longer he stared the more she subtly shifted, hoping to show off her good assets.

“We could pretend nothing happened,” she continued in a hushed murmur, shoulders hunching to squeeze her boobs together. A lock of her real hair tumbled to the side as she innocently tilted her head with it. Coram’s attention never wavered but it was like he couldn’t move. Like moving would ruin everything.

Despite his flushed skin and dazed expression he desperately tried putting himself in the correct, authoritative headspace. He made himself look away, chest rising and falling with untold emotions. This, whatever it was, was killing him, and he rubbed a fist over his mouth as he shakily choked out, “I—this isn’t—I’m…”

He was failing miserably and it almost made her laugh. Instead Paz bit her lip and eyed him nervously, the room spinning behind him in a whorl. She’d never…never felt this kind of vulnerable, not in front of him at least. Usually there was some kind of barrier, an attitude preventing her from letting down her guard. Now there was nothing, and they were both out of their minds. He could try and deny it but he was clearly as fucked up as she was, something she could definitely taunt him over for the rest of their respective time together but…

She wouldn’t, not if he never said anything.

Her outward feelings hadn’t changed, yet the ones she’d carefully kept strangled hadn’t, either. Swallowing thickly, Paz scooted just a bit closer.

“I wouldn’t say anything,” she hoarsely repeated, aching to touch him. Anywhere. Anywhere was fine. “I wouldn’t. I’d…”

The captain was already shaking his head, but he hadn’t gone anywhere. His fingertips timidly grazed one ankle, even if he couldn’t look at her properly. “I can’t. This. I’m so…fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t—I couldn’t help it, and now you’re here, and I…I…”

He was babbling. It was kind of cute coming from someone so generally assured of himself, yet in the moment Paz somehow wanted to comfort him, an instinct she didn’t know she had kicking in beneath the million kilometers of hazy lotus and booze. His eyes were so shiny, skin slick with sweat, and he couldn’t be more distraught, as if it physically pained him to be here. Should she back off? She didn’t want to make him cry— _that_ definitely hadn’t been her intent, not at all, and as wet as she was between her legs she didn’t want to make things worse. Stuck in her clouds she began withdrawing, confused on what to do now. Should she go back out and find another bar? Find another person to fuck? But she’d…wanted…wanted him.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, hunching deeper into herself, unsure how to fix this. “I didn’t mean to—”

“No,” he protested, voice cracking. His hands reached forward, fingers anxious to keep in contact. “No, please—don’t…don’t go. Don’t be sorry. You’re…”

Those lovely, real features of his screwed up, words stuck in his throat. Obliging, Paz relaxed against his touch. She really couldn’t think straight. He’d never want this—they _hated_ each other.

Or was that just her? Did she even…?

His fingers clutched just a hair tighter, though the captain still struggled to even look near her. He settled on her hips, a torturous place given what they were close to but she wasn’t about to tell him to look elsewhere. When he tried again he was still tongue-tied, but at least he was trying.

“I…fuck, I want…”

“You,” she finished for him in a whisper, heart beginning to thunder in her chest. She allowed her fingers to lace with his, thumbs circling over the back of his hands. He’d frozen in place, emboldening her to continue, lashes lowering as she met his pained gaze. “Right now I want…you.”

And while he shuddered in disbelief she knew it was true, on both their parts. Of _all_ the people in Beta they’d gravitated to one another. Of _any_ possible situation they’d both gotten fucked up enough to not care, and so long as he didn’t question why she was here then she’d give him the same courtesy. One might find it difficult to ignore the fact they both really shouldn’t have been out but that was underestimating what they’d taken—well, what Paz had taken, anyway. She didn’t know what else he was on but he was clearly faded on more than just a touch of lotus.

Slowly, very slowly, she leaned closer, honing in on his parted lips. They were contorted into some kind of guilty apprehension, something she wished to smooth over.

So, she did, mouth softly brushing over his.

One, two, three seconds went by before his hands slid right back up her legs to her bum, rushing to drag her into his lap once more. Fingers worked up her backside while her own traced across his nearly bare crown. Her legs quickly maneuvered over his hips, settling against him in what seemed like a perfect fit. The groan he uttered as her heat ground against his lap went straight to her core. She couldn’t help responding, a sudden need to be as close to him as possible taking over.

He had the same mindset, thankfully, kissing her deeper and deeper, holding her steady while his free hand stroked up her back, through her hair, squeezing one burning cheek before tangling his fingers in her hair once more. At some point she finished what she’d started with his pants, deftly pulling his hard cock from its confines and rubbing against it with her bum. The soft growls of affection emanating from his mouth were the best so she continued, rolling her hips and teasing him.

Coram’s grip tightened in her hair, breathing hard into her mouth. A small part of her wanted to ask how long he’d gone without sex (the way he writhed with her told her _a lot_ ) but kept that to herself, too involved in her own dance, especially when he thumbed over the dripping wetness between her legs.

_Fuck_. She bit his lower lip for that, clamping both arms around his neck and lifting herself slightly. She needed him in her, needed it more than anything in the entire universe or she’d die. She didn’t make the rules; that was just the way things were.

“In,” she possessively gasped, eyes shuddering as she drunkenly looked him over. He was currently consumed with lust, barely able to listen let alone do more than pump his hips. Every time he bumped into her she could feel how needy he’d become. Cupping his cheeks she made him pay attention. “In. _Please. Now_.”

“Ye?” he roughly confirmed, rubbing that swollen, sensitive spot harder. Paz jerked, a guttural moan accompanying her suddenly shaking legs.

“Ye,” she hissed, drawing it out, rising just a bit more. Her breasts were basically in his face which was great because he caught one nipple between his teeth, gently biting down as his rough cheek nuzzled against her bosom. The combined sensation set her _off_ and she whined harder. She’d climb him if she could, every shred of dignity gone. All that mattered was curing the throbbing slit between her legs.

“Do it,” she begged, wishing she could pry herself open that much more, holding onto him for dear life. This was not a proud moment for her, but damn, she couldn’t help it. “Come on, do it. Fuck me. _Please_.”

He grunted some kind of response but that wasn’t action. Paz couldn’t help drawing back a smidge, hips wiggling as she looked to do it herself. From his core Coram swore deeply, body going taut the instant she lined herself up and dropped down, burying his thick member and filling her in…goddamnit, she couldn’t comprehend how fantastic it felt.

For a brief, halting moment she forgot everything—Osiris, the Lakai, Alpha, her name…everything. Stars swirled in her vision and she collapsed against him, absolutely willing to melt in his strong hold. She’d never…never felt that kind of spark. Not on lotus, not with anyone else…never. Was it because of him? It couldn’t be—while he was just, _mmm_ , she’d been with bigger guys before—but he just…man, everything about the way he currently held her, inside and out, was all she’d ever wanted without even knowing it.

He seemed to feel it, too, that invisible blanket that’d just wrapped itself around them, entwining them into one entity. Quivering slightly, Coram dug his fingers into her waist, cautiously tilting her back to study her flushed features beneath his own hooded lids. They quietly contemplated one another as if it were the first time they’d truly met, though neither ever let go of the other, at all.

His lips moved but he did not speak—she knew what he’d said anyway. _Perfect_ , was what he’d said. _Perfect_ , because it was true. She couldn’t explain why. It just was.

He began a subtle roll of his hips and that was when she really lost it. Each movement he made coiled something deep within her, pushing away anything that wasn’t him. Gone was her substance-induced frenzy, a need to take his long, slow strokes more important. Paz was captivated by the pulsing hardness between her thighs, his warm breath on her skin, his muscles flexing as he guided her up and down, moving in time with his soft, gentle rhythm…

This was, she dizzily realized, lovemaking, and there was apparently a difference. He’d promised her once, a long time ago, if they’d had more time (and a proper bed but, well, that wasn’t currently possible) he’d really impress her. She’d even admit he was succeeding in that category.

Spectacularly, she might add. Goddamnit, he was really succeeding. Her body was singing for him and they’d barely even begun.

“Hold on,” he murmured, that low voice thick with desire. With one arm he coaxed her down to her back, parting both legs and settling between them like a giant. Empty and now bare, Paz pouted and tried to entice him back though he didn’t seem to have the same thing in mind. That stupid thumb of his was already circling her clit, and the smile he developed was viciously deviant when she arched and threw an arm over her mouth, biting down hard.

Paz’s hips squirmed, inherently begging for more, but just as she was about to pick up on her begging he paused, shucking off his shirt and tossing it with her dress. In the meantime she did find herself whining and finally, thankfully, he obliged, easing back in and filling her just as completely as before. Never did she imagine she’d be asking the captain to fuck her but that was exactly what she found herself doing yet again, hands grabbing his ass to ensure he would’t leave.

He didn’t.

Instead he lowered to his elbows, covering her, mouth finding hers while his hips picked up a steady pump. Each time he moved her insides squeezed tight. She opened as much as she could for him, unable to help the sounds escaping her mouth and into his. They encouraged him, pushing him faster, harder… Fuck, this was good. Paz’s already straining eyes rolled back in their sockets, tension rising all over. Everything was hot, her thoughts entirely focused on the energy they were creating, and when he ducked closer to suck on her neck, leaving a large welt, it felt like her insides imploded in pure ecstasy. Nails digging into his back, crossed legs squeezing him like a vise, she rode the electric wave coursing through each limb. His breathy encouragement was a euphoric soundtrack drowning any and all thoughts and fuck, she just…

She loved it. There wasn’t any other way to explain it, and she surrendered herself to both him and her body.

He went on and on, pushing for what felt like forever, seemingly content to take his time despite that obvious neediness. She drifted in and out through multiple peaks, always accepting the peppering of praiseful kisses, always crying out when he hit that beautiful spot just inside that he seemed an expert at finding. Every bit of her grew weak with exhaustion, sweat pouring from both their overheated bodies. It was too good to stop and she didn’t dare let go of his always shifting frame until he came, pulling out and spilling across her stomach.

In that moment time seemed to stop, bringing her down just a little to a more manageable level. Coram loomed, chest heaving while he swayed, eyes shut and deep in his own thoughts. She did much the same, panting and stretching out cramped, jelly-like legs. A soft silence came over them both. When he finally opened an eye he offered a victorious smirk. Paz faintly flashed her teeth, exhaustedly mirroring the sentiment.

Honestly, she had no idea how she’d gotten to this point, lying in some utility closet in a heap, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She’d been satiated in a way she’d forgotten even existed.

Finding his shirt, Coram tossed that over her torso, lowering to clean their combined mess. She laid still, mind buzzing just as much as her body, too wrecked to think about getting up. That was just…everything she’d needed and more.

Taking his time the captain eventually settled down on one side, pulling an unexpected move as he draped one arm across her chest and rolling until they were tangled together. His nose touched her cheek, breath still heavy but pleasant to listen to. He was…cuddling? She hadn’t expected that but wasn’t complaining, returning the gesture and tucking into his half embrace. His heart raced against hers. It felt…good. Familiar, and safe. It was like everything that’d happened in the last couple weeks hadn’t. Like they’d just picked up where they’d left off at the fuel stop, and neither seemed to mind.

For whatever reason she wanted to tell him so, wanted to tease him for being such a hypocrite and giving in to his lesser morals. Pretending nothing happened was the best policy though, one she’d already promised. She couldn’t go back on that now.

He broke the silence first, one warm leg heavily rubbing over hers. “I…that was…I mean, is this something we need to talk about?”

“Hmm?” Paz snuggled tighter, a very uncharacteristic thing for her but, well, she couldn’t help that she fit so perfectly with him. “No. I just…needed to clear my head.”

A kiss was pressed into her hair and he sighed, taking her at face value. Damn, he was so warm. She could fall asleep right there. “Okay. Then…this stays here.”

Nodding against his chest, her consciousness wavered. Sure. Whatever he said. She’d promised herself to behave better once she’d gotten her way, and…well, she _had_ gotten it. “Okay. Can we do it again?”

“What?” His entire body stiffened. “Paz—”

“No, I mean like now,” she clarified with a yawn. She wasn’t tired, not like that. She just needed a second. Also, since when had he begun addressing her like that? He didn’t normally call her that.

Warm, gentle laughter filled her ears and he squeezed her…affectionately. “Let me catch my breath.”

Paz did, nestling with anticipation only nothing ever came of it. Within minutes she’d knocked out, all that partying catching up at once.


	38. Ch 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning-after consequences. Uh, yeah Paz, maybe we should've thought this through a little more :/

The thing about mixing lotus and alcohol, at least for Paz, was she slept super well on it. Not long, mind you, but dead-to-the-universe well. Thus, she jerked awake pretty early on to deafening silence and a muscular arm slung tightly around her waist. That was…comfortable.

Where was she, again?

She lay still against a very warm body spooning her in the nicest way, letting things slowly return. She’d partied last night, clearly found lotus (good), pretty sure she’d gotten laid (better), and it’d been a fantastic time (Beta: accomplished). Now, a small part of her _knew_ who she’d hooked up with, remembered exactly how wonderful her partner had been, but she was doing her damndest to pretend that hadn’t been, you know, real. Because it if was real…then there were a lot of things she’d have to deal with the moment she turned around and she wasn’t exactly enthused about that.

That warm body inhaled heavily, arm tightening while a powerful leg tucked over her already squeezed hip. They were half clothed and she…well, she was stark naked. Hmm. Maybe…maybe she’d hallucinated? It’d happened, once or twice. Maybe somewhere deep down she was a glutton for punishment so of course she’d imagine hooking up with the captain.

Right?

The body behind her shifted slightly. Apparently they woke early on lotus, too. Their head lifted, chin gently settling on the soft spot between her exposed shoulder and neck. Paz held her breath.

_Please don’t be him, please don’t be him,_ **please** _don’t be him_.

“Paz.” Coram’s whisper was barely perceptible, like he didn’t want to wake her. Fuck, it was definitely him. She scrunched her eyes tight. If she never opened them she’d never have to face him.

And yet, she wasn’t as disgusted as she thought she’d be. The only part of her that was panicking was her sense of dignity while the rest of her just…mm, enjoyed the warm breath against her skin just as much as she loved his heat, his body, his firm hold…

“Paz,” he tried again in a murmur, lips brushing over her neck. She couldn’t help moaning, pushing backward in a toe-curling stretch and somehow falling deeper into his embrace.

“Give me a second. I need—need to process…this.”

She could feel him smiling—fucking _Coram_ was smiling into her shoulder, greedily pulling her flush. At least he didn’t say anything else, proceeding to keep his lips where they were and holding her steady. They lay like that for several long moments, both quiet, both in their own thoughts. She could get used to it, could get used to everything about it. Except, you know, the part where he was a lying sack of—

Shifting around in his arms she didn’t finish that thought. No need to rehash something she already knew. Besides, when she gazed up at his rough, naked face her breath caught and she promptly forgot all those things anyway. Fuck, he was gorgeous. Not like, vid gorgeous, but handsome in that rugged, been-around-the-quadrants kind of way. _Why_ was she so into him? He was a murderer—he’d _kidnapped_ her. Just because he was cute didn’t mean she could, or should, forgive that.

So stupid. She’d been so stupid last night. It was better to forget than keep melting over the ridiculously handsome face currently ducking to further examine her own like this was some kind of intimate moment. It wasn’t. It was just another one of her dumb-ass decisions.

Immediately she extricated herself and sat up, head reeling, stomach revolting and sending pangs through her insides. The captain watched her go, quickly schooling his contentment into that usual, neutral expression he wore for everything. He’d clearly noticed the change as she dizzily looked around for her dress, back to him so she didn’t have to deal with any distractions. Her dress wasn’t too far away, thankfully, and she hastily crawled over to sling it over her head.

“Sorry about that,” she gruffly apologized, not bothering to look over her shoulder while she yanked on the hem. Judging by his soft snarl he didn’t believe she meant it but she kept going. “That was—I mean, I just wanted to cut loose. It won’t happen again. Don’t—sorry.”

Righting himself, one hand ran over his scalp several times. “Ah…right. Same. No worries.”

Oh, good. He felt the same way. That eased the guilt in Paz’s chest a great deal and she finally twisted to smirk at him, but he had a hand splayed over both eyes. Whatever.

“We won’t talk about it, ye? No harm.”

He bit his lip, slowly nodding. Paz thought he looked a little ill but she wasn’t going to ask. Tying her belt, she wobbled to her feet and stepped around the cushions for the door. It occurred to her she didn’t remember how they’d ended up here.

“Ah, how do I…?”

“Rahm’s a couple blocks to the right,” he muttered, remaining right where he was on the floor. “Just…head on in through the back. You have the code?”

“There’s a code?”

“How’d you—?” He cut himself off, exhaling deeply. “Want to—I’ll ping you.”

Edging for the door, Paz paused. She knew what he’d been about to say. There was no way they were going to head back together. “Oh. Cool. Ye, I’ll go first. And I won’t say anything, I swear.”

He was pinching his brows together now. “Ye, I know. I get it.”

“So you won’t…?”

He obviously wasn’t as much of a morning person as she thought, not when he snapped, “Why would I say anything? Just—go.”

He was much easier to dislike when he acted like a prick. Squaring her shoulders, Paz firmly nodded and shoved open the door, lurching out into a hall she didn’t recognize. She slammed it shut, absently following the hall into an empty but huge room filled with booths. Well, at least no one was around to see her walk of shame.

_Why would I say anything_?

Tch, said the guy who’d been all sweet, sensuous cuddles until he remembered that’d been a mistake. Just barely aware of her own naked face she worked on fixing that, dipping out of the huge room and down another hall that led to an exit dumping her out on the slum’s quiet morning streets. Fuck Coram. He was cute, sure, but nothing more. She’d been fucked up and hadn’t made good decisions, as usual. That always happened. She’d just thought she’d made bad decisions with someone else.

Up above Beta’s sky was barely light. Good. She assumed she’d make it in undetected so long as she hurried. She set off to the right, hoping to remember what Rahm’s door looked like. Luckily, a ping came in several minutes into her bleary trek—a door code, and directions courtesy of the captain. She didn’t bother sending her gratitude; he wouldn’t care anyway.

Ugh, the stupid captain. Shoving any lingering thoughts about him down, she pushed on as quickly as her feet could go. She’d never make that kind of mistake again, of that she was sure.


	39. Ch 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unsurprisingly, betrayal.

In probably the first time in ages, Paz lounged the entire rest of the day in a zoned-out, icky state, completely undisturbed. She had no idea how she’d gotten so lucky but she didn’t question it. Besides, she’d figured out the pounding in her head earlier that morning was indeed a hangover. The new organs she’d inherited really sucked and couldn’t even handle more than the tiny amount of substances downed (okay, tiny for _her_ ), because she was…sick. Like, really sick. So that was just grand.

No one came to rouse her by sundown so she literally dozed on and off until sometime the next morning. At that point she felt even worse than when she’d stumbled into her bed. At least she’d hurtled over the most embarrassing bit from the night before. Wide awake now, she stayed wrapped in the bed’s blankets and stared at the dark ceiling, checking the time and wondering when they were supposed to leave. There was no way they’d abandoned her here (she couldn’t be _that_ lucky), but she’d thought they were supposed to head out. Like, yesterday. What was the holdup? She didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to get up and prepare for the next leg of something she absolutely hadn’t signed up for.

But…if she was going to see Sam again, and she would even if it killed her, then they needed out of here and back to the relative safety of the Lakai. Why not just jet to the next artifact? It was probably too far to reach in a timely manner from here. Reeser would get them there quickly, she’d grab that last key, chuck it at Coram, consequences be damned, and then she’d be home free.

Sam probably wouldn’t know what to think of this mess. He’d believe it, sure, but he’d always had a better sense of…righteousness, she called it, than her. He’d chide her over several decisions, at least about the bit where she’d…slept with a murderer. The sleeping around part wouldn’t bother him, but the murderer bit would. He knew she couldn’t help herself while out and about, but with Coram? Ugh, even _she_ was embarrassed.

Maybe she just wouldn’t…tell him about that. Like she’d told the captain, it stayed between them. Easy.

He’d scold her over Fiala, too. Warranted, of course, but why kill someone just because Val ordered it? That’d always been a point of contention. She’d neglect to mention that, too, but if Val had gone and cleaned up the mess at Hiduron then he already knew. What about with the Nav fleet? Would he care she’d practically allowed their destruction?

Her heart thudded heavily and she rolled sideways in bed, knees drawing to her chest. She hadn’t meant to do all this. It’d been out of her control and she’d _tried_ to escape at Fiala’s estate but that’d been fucked. He’d understand. He had to. They’d done dumber things on Val’s orders before.

Maybe it was because this little business trip had gone on for so long but she missed him. Missed so much about him: his laugh, his smile, the way he always focused so intently on whatever currently held his attention, and of course the way he’d hug her when she returned, lifting her off the ground in an embrace that’d always made returning to the Osiris worth it.

She…really missed him.

Even though it was early she pinged both Desh and Coram, informing them she was ready to go. Well, would be once she showered. She made herself get up, quietly padding from the room and readying herself for what she knew was going to be a horrible time.

No one was up, or had answered her, by the time she slinked into the kitchen to find something to eat. Paz didn’t really know the others’ habits so she didn’t find the overwhelming silence weird. Instead, she put together a playlist from Beta’s current top hits, most things she’d heard several months earlier, things things Sam had an ear for. She let that softly fill the space between her ears, munching on some sort of protein mix in the fridge.

Maybe Rahm could come teach Val, their designated cook aboard the Osiris, how to actually…cook. That’d require some arrangements, but still. Rahm hadn’t wronged her. She didn’t want to punch him in the gut, so she could see him boarding the Osiris in the future, perhaps having a friendly, reminiscent chat with Val and then giving her some pointers. There was a reason they had mostly rehydrated meals on board. And fizzy drinks, but that was only because Lonyn and Sam liked those.

Sam… Damn, why was she thinking about him so much this morning? She pinged Desh and Coram again, sure if she annoyed them enough at least one would eventually answer her.

Neither did, not even when she blew up their chat with all sorts of awful comments. A horrible thought did occur to her, but she tried drowning it out with more music. They wouldn’t have left her. Never. That’d be—Coram had already forced her to find two artifacts. Why the hell wouldn’t he—

Setting down the protein mix, Paz abandoned the kitchen to start a thorough search of the house, calling first Rahm’s name, then the others when that produced no results. Was it too early? It couldn’t be. She began knocking on doors in the guest hallway, well aware her companions had been in there. No response, and when she dared crack open Coram’s room she found the small bed…empty.

That only emboldened her to open up Desh’s room. It, too, was empty, but their things were in there. Judging by the feel of the room she knew the artifact was also in there, so…they couldn’t have actually left. The captain wouldn’t dare leave that thing behind and Desh, no matter his feelings, wouldn’t leave it, either.

So…where the fuck were they?

Rahm wasn’t around at all. She’d searched the entire house three times before she finally sent him a ping, demanding to know where he was or what was on the agenda. Asking that was better than panicking and crying that her horrible travel companions weren’t around. That would look so stupid, so weak.

Stuck with her own thoughts didn’t help at all. Paz anxiously paced the halls, bad things racing through her mind. She didn’t want to stay here. Well, she did, but not like this. Not with just Rahm and his tech. Actually, he could probably get her back to Val with minimal issues so long as someone could explain to Osiris’s captain. That…that wasn’t a terrible idea, to be honest, but…

Okay, deep down in her most secret thoughts there was a small part of her that _did_ kind of want to find the last key. Just to see what happened. Yes, she could posture and bitch all she wanted but it would’ve been cool, she supposed, to know if the Hylerians had been telling the truth. It would’ve been cool to…maybe see Hyleris, just in case…

_Intent Matters_.

Yes, Guinto had said it enough to make her feel guilty over the concept. Go to Hyleris, use the keys because intent mattered or whatever. That meant nothing to her but…but what if it did, once she had the last key?

What if Coram did know what he was talking about? Pride wouldn’t allow her to outright ask him yet she still wanted to know. Still wanted to piece together all these loose threads that’d sort of been tossed at her with no real rhyme or reason and see if she could make sense of them.

No, no. She didn’t care. She kept pacing the halls, winding around to the rec area for the millionth time, spine beginning to tingle in worry. None of this bullshit would matter, not once she made it back to Val. _If_ she even made it back to Val now. Where was everyone and why was no one answering? It felt like she’d been floated given how much silence there was.

Coram and Desh wouldn’t have left without her. They wouldn’t have. Surely they were doing something important right now, something that tied into their plans and maybe they were just ignoring her because she would get in the way. Maybe Rahm was involved, too. He had seemed pretty helpful what with all his tech knowledge.

Ye. Ye, that was it. They were just busy. And they’d come back for her. They’d…contact her any second now.

Another hour passed. She’d bitten down her nails, her feet were stained from the concrete, and she’d eaten at least three packs of protein mix now. Paz kept returning to the rec room, wandering up to the main door like a stupid dog waiting for its master every so often, nearly whining in the same kind of frustration. The longer she heard nothing just made her doubt her own stupid explanation that much more.

Fuck. They’d left her, hadn’t they? Maybe Rahm, too, since he was supposedly a previous crew mate. She was in such deep shit if that was the case. How was she supposed to do…anything?

Finally, a ping came through from Rahm and she fell to her knees in the rec area, thanking the entire universe that she hadn’t been completely forgotten. In a heap on the floor Paz quickly read the message, puzzled but already agreeing to his request. He wanted her up in the main shop—he had something for her.

Nothing about the others but she didn’t care, not in the moment. She was up and running for the stairs to the shop less than ten seconds after she’d sent off her reply.

Desh was upstairs, rigidly guarding the front entrance with his back. She barely glanced his way, mostly because if she addressed him she’d yell. Instead, she smiled in relief at Rahm, who leaned against the front counter while…talking to one of the tallest women she’d ever laid eyes on. The woman’s was back to her. Paz paused before she jumped into the shop, cautious of the newcomer. She was just…really tall. And muscular. Damn, her thighs were larger than Desh’s.

As if sensing the extra attention the woman glanced over one broad shoulder, pretty violet eyes lighting up in recognition. _Recognition_? Paz froze. She was only one step into the shop but she damn sure didn’t climb further.

“It’s you,” the lady whispered as she fully turned, capping Paz’s tolerance for shock so early in the morning. Taking note, Rahm peered around the woman to reassure Paz with his own big grin.

“Oh, good. You’re dressed. Miss Paz, this is Sandova. She captains the Jaro—our primary ship.”

The—wait a minute, there was a primary ship? For who? Hylerians? Or this weird gang she’d found herself in? Paz’s hearing went wonky regardless and she was glad she had the wall to lean into because yes, she’d heard of Sandova. Not from Val, not from vids or anything because the Nav didn’t like talking about its unsanctioned black-market-hunting team. No, she’d heard it from other pilots who frequented the Tauri quadrant, from Triads bitching about their lost cargo and turf. They’d all whispered that name once, the terror in their neck of Andromeda, but it’d been a while. If Coram was who the Federation wanted, who the Nav wished to rip apart, then Sandova was the pirate equivalent of…that. There was a reason Val never went near Tauri, not for its reputation but because of the people who guarded it.

So yes, she knew who Sandova was as much as she knew of her other infamous cohort, Coram, but she hadn’t known that…Sandova was Hylerian, because she definitely was judging by the height, the sharp jaw, the flat nose and wide eyes that took in everything if they so wished.

Damn. She was meeting all sorts of awful people out in the void.

Sandova, _that_ Sandova, lifted up a calloused palm to offer a friendly wave. At the moment she looked cute as a button. “Hello, Miss Paz. A pleasure to finally meet you.”

_Finally_? Swallowing the urge to turn tail and run, Paz’s gaze darted to Desh. He stared back—hard. Like he was trying to tell her something.

Her attention flicked back to Sandova and Rahm, careful to keep her fear shoved down and away. There was no table she was chained to; she didn’t have to throw down all her cards at once. And okay, yes, she’d probably have done it anyway but Desh’s silence and weird look made her…cautious, for once.

“Ah, ye,” she stupidly mumbled to the others. “You said…said to come up, Rahm?”

“I did,” he brightly commended, head tilting in Sandova’s direction. She smiled just as luminously. “Miss Paz, Sandova learned everything from your father. She’s been looking for you for a long time.”

Yet she was here, where Paz had literally never been. She’d been summoned. Hardly hesitating, Paz forced herself to relax and flashed her teeth in her usual, pretty smile. “Oh. Well, ah…wow. That’s a lot of people looking for me.” Pausing, she cleared her throat. That’d been a dumb joke. “Unfortunately, I actually have to get going. I thought…Desh, are you guys ready?”

_Please say yes, please say yes,_ please _say yes_ —

Desh’s entire body squared up though all he did was shake his head. And glare at the floor, face an unreadable mask. What was she supposed to do with that? Something about this whole situation was off.

“Is that why Coram’s still out?” she tightly inquired, only succeeding in making the captain’s second rub a heavy hand over his brow.

Rahm coughed. “Ms. Paz. I wanted to speak to you about…him.”

Oh no, they’d somehow figured out what’d happened, didn’t they? Who’d—had that bastard said something? She was going to _kill_ —

“The Nav picked him up last night,” Rahm finished, and any vindictive thoughts she had spilled right out her head. She couldn’t help her wide eyed stare.

_He’s gone. He’s fucking gone. But he can’t be._

_He left me?_

“What?” she managed squeaking, trying to ignore the darkness closing in around her. “How?”

“Vids are all over it. They brought him in overnight; something about being right under their noses.”

_He’s gone_. _But I wanted—_

“He’s fucked,” Paz uttered, so glad for the wall holding her up. It felt like she’d been punched in the gut. There was no way around it. The Nav was going to wring the captain out until there was nothing left. They’d do it with pleasure, too.

While the logical part of her brain reveled in his finally being caught (he absolutely deserved it) the rest of her couldn’t quite…handle it. She’d…he’d made an agreement with her, and now he was breaking it. Via definite death, fine, but still. Fuck. He was going to get out, right? What were they going to do in the meantime? What was _she_ going to do?

“So what do we do—what’s the plan?” She hurriedly looked to Desh if only because he probably had a plan. Right? He still wouldn’t look at her though, and then Sandova issued a bitter huff. She casually stepped closer.

“He can rot in their cages for all we care. He broke our laws, so the punishment fits. Don’t worry about him, dear—he won’t be extorting you any longer.”

Paz laughed. She actually laughed and before she could stop herself she asked, “And I suppose one of you intends on taking that over?”

She shouldn’t have said that aloud. Fuck, he’d _left_ her. She’d caused this, hadn’t she? She’d—this was why—

Ragged fingernails bit into her clenched fists, willing to shred apart that incredibly misguided thought.

Neither Rahm nor Sandova missed a beat, the other woman coming closer with an air of concern. “I’m sorry if that’s what you think. But it’s not the case, I promise.”

“He went against our code,” Rahm clarified, appearing pretty disappointed. “The things he’s done were not approved of, and it’s horrifying to know he took you from your crew. No reason is acceptable for that kind of behavior. Unfortunately, that was just the tip of the iceberg—he’s had multiple warnings and ignored them all, so…I’d gladly let the Nav tear into him over ourselves.”

“ _I don’t buy Hylerians_ ,” Coram had said once. She distinctly remembered that. He’d never—never cared what kind of Hylerian they were, no matter how useless or stupid they were. In a sick way she supposed she was proof of that. He was in the business of keeping them alive, keeping them out of Nav, of _anyone’s_ hands.

Apparently that notion didn’t carry over to his cohorts, not even his second.

For a moment she had this paralyzing image of being under Sandova’s wing, of truly experiencing pirating rather than just going along for the ride. Sandova she hadn’t heard that much of but from what she _had_ heard, the other captain was brutal. There was no mercy with her. If your ship was apprehended you lost your ship, and that was if you were lucky enough to live. The Nav didn’t mind her though, oh no—she practically did them a service devouring her way through all sorts of operations, especially the Triads.

That was…look, she’d compartmentalized her stay with the Lakai, compartmentalized everything about the ship and its lying captain. It’d been an unfortunate incident but she’d been promised home once she was finished ‘helping’. Therefore she didn’t care what the Lakai did, didn’t care what it was doing with absom or why she was looking for stone sticks or where half the crew was off to while she’d been aboard. Working with anyone else, however, would not be the same and she knew it. Like hell she’d work with these fuckers anyway, and no one had mentioned that specifically but if Sandova was looking for her then…what else was she supposed to think?

Desh refused to focus on anything but the floor, arms crossed over his deathly still chest. Paz wanted to demand why he wasn’t already running after his precious captain but he just…he looked sick.

Hmm.

She put on her most trusting, betrayed face. Reeser would be proud.

“Oh,” was all she said before frowning and biting her lip.

“But,” Sandova finished for Rahm, “the bastard was right in getting you out of there while it was still possible. I—”

“We,” her shadow interrupted, to which Paz’s concern grew.

“Yes, _we_ want to talk to you about staying with your own people.”

The ground slipped from under her feet. Clenching both fists harder, Paz blinked and swallowed. This wasn’t happening. Why’d he leave her with these motherfuckers? It took a lot of effort to ground out, “No, thanks. I already have a crew that I like. By the way, would it be possible for either of you to get me there? I mean, if you want me to meet some people, fine, but I really, _really_ , need to go home.”

“You should not return to Valeree Omorin, Ms. Paz,” Rahm added, face having fallen to genuine sincerity. “Trust me, it won’t end well, not after what’s occurred.”

Paz backed down a step. She didn’t like how close Sandova was, didn’t like the words coming out of Rahm’s mouth. “Dude, I don’t—Val’s my captain. My crew.” Sort of her parental figure if nothing else. At least she’d _been_ there for Paz, unlike this Vanson dude the other Hylerian kept trying to bring up.

And speaking of him, Sandova couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “Miss Paz, as far as we know your father, one of the best captains I ever knew, he put you in Omorin’s care to keep you safe from the things we face as a people. Omorin’s done a great job given you’re still alive but—even the best can falter.”

Coming from a criminal mastermind Paz didn’t particularly believe her. She wanted to fall down the steps, wanted to hide underground and pretend this hadn’t happened. She’d be going home. He hadn’t gotten caught, he hadn’t run away.

_How could he get caught_?

“Uh, I appreciate the concern but this is some bullshit. I have to go back to Val—she even called in the _Nav_ to find me. I _have_ to return to her and if—if Coram’s out of the picture then our deal’s done. I’m calling Val.” She had no idea how, but she’d find a way. It couldn’t be that hard, there had to be—

“She finalized your sale to the Nav,” Desh barked out, as if every word made him prone to vomiting. “It was either pick you up or let the Nav spread your legs—”

“ _Shut up_ ,” she snarled over him, eyes somehow wider, ears ringing harder. She wanted to vomit herself, but yelling at him would suffice. Val would never do that so that was a fucking lie. “Don’t even _talk_ —”

“Who else better to keep you safe, ye? Who better than the people you’re so keen to please? Who else better than the fuckers who _let_ our people die, who—”

“ _Shut it_ ,” she forcefully hollered, every bit of her skin bubbling with barely contained rage. Why didn’t they understand? “I don’t care what the motherfucking Nav do, alright? Val wouldn’t sell me to them. I’m part of her crew.”

Crews didn’t do that. They didn’t—Osiris’s crew was loyal only to itself.

“They named a hundred mil,” Rahm gently divulged in the pause Paz had taken for an aching breath. “She agreed. If you want the receipts they can be provided. I didn’t…didn’t know who they were talking about at the time, but a Hylerian had been mentioned. None of us were certain if it was real, but we deemed it best to look into.”

It was an effort not to scream. Lowering her own shaking gaze to the steps, Paz hunched her shoulders. “What, so the captain heard about it, too, and decided to check it out?”

Their silence hurt, because she knew the answer.

“He never told us,” Sandova insisted, doing her best to appear less intimidating. It made Paz even shakier. She absolutely knew what they were trying to do. “He kidnapped and extorted a girl with every intention of withholding you from your own people.”

He’d said something at the beach about that, hadn’t he? Something about trying to help. Some help that turned out to be. How could he let himself be captured?

A muted hush fell over the shop. She didn’t want to believe it, couldn’t, and when she looked again to Desh she saw he…he didn’t believe it, either. Whatever this thing was, whatever she’d been drafted into, he’d been in on it.

So why wasn’t he fucking arguing? They were making his ‘bro’ look terrible.

Fine. If no one else was going to pick a fight she guessed she volunteered. She fixed a blurry glare at Sandova, sure she would be the one to watch out for. “Okay, but two things: One, I’m sorry but I don’t care. I didn’t care about it on the Lakai and I sure as hell won’t start now. Two, it’s my crew. I don’t question Val. If she wants to do that, which she doesn’t, then there’s a reason. A hundred mil? That sounds like a _joke_.”

Sandova studied her a good long moment before her lips tightened into a grim smirk. “I’m sorry, Paz. It’s hard hearing shit like this, I know. But…the reality of the matter is, Omorin has no interest in keeping you, not if the sale nets enough.”

Fucking credits; they always got in the way. No. _No_. Val wasn’t selling her. What the fuck was this?

“I’m sorry but this isn’t going to work. They already tried on the Lakai. I’m not joining this little Hylerian gang scheme, floating tankers and all.”

The other woman’s face stretched thin. She knew Paz had heard of her, then.

“We cannot have you summoning Val.” It was Rahm who changed tactics first, surprising her with such an ultimatum. He didn’t appear too pained any longer. “As you mentioned, she’s working with the Nav. And, unfortunately, we can’t have you telling others what you know, not with what you’ve seen.”

Which meant it wasn’t really an ultimatum at all. She either stayed right here and cooperate or…nothing. That’s what she would be doing. Ah. Now she saw why Desh had rolled over.

Well, fuck. Paz wasn’t about to do the same, but if she didn’t…damn. Sandova could take her down, even she acknowledged that. Growing jittery, she put on her most conflicted expression and willed tears to line her eyes. Just a little.

“But, Val,” she whimpered, dropping to her knees. “She wouldn’t—.”

If Desh found the sudden onslaught of tears unbelievable he kept quiet, looking away while Sandova crouched at the steps with Paz to rub her shoulder.

“It’s okay,” the other captain consoled, as if she knew what she was talking about. “This is for the best. You’ll see. I promise.”

Paz cried harder, mind already spinning with chaos and hatred. She couldn’t think straight, somehow letting Sandova touch her, allowing Rahm to talk about how now she’d get to learn all about her heritage, how she’d truly be better off with them. Through it all Desh brooded at the only exit in the vicinity, like he’d already given in. Maybe he had, or maybe he was just pissed. It didn’t matter to Paz.

No fucking way was she going anywhere or doing _anything_ with these people. She didn’t know how, not yet, but she’d find a way. If Coram had still been around this’d be easier but fine, she’d—she’d do it herself.


	40. Ch 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, double-crosser!!

“It’s a lot, I know it is, but you’ll thrive with your own kind. You will be happy there.”

Right. Paz bet Coram had thought the same thing. Turned out he’d been wrong about that.

Rahm had closed the shop and they brought her back downstairs, sitting her down in the rec area to tell her of potential plans. Through her anger Paz actually managed a couple sobs, then pretended the terms were…alright. Bearable, for now. Desh sat all of one couch from her, never speaking, always glowering at the ground, always looking like he was about to retch.

Quickly, easily, Sandova and Rahm explained what would now be the best course of action, and how Paz and Desh would fit in with her ship, the Jaro—after commandeering Coram’s first and giving it a good inspection, recruiting whomever she wished.

That was the first thing that really pissed Paz off. While Desh took it all with morose silence she began seething the more Sandova went on about what a nice ship the Jaro was, how Paz would enjoy it there, and how now she would finally get to enjoy the full benefits of being Hylerian. At some point Paz had to demand how this’d work, what with Sandova acting as her own police in Tauri in place of the Nav. Sandova merely smiled and denied any involvement with the Nav, which meant they clearly had a deal in that quadrant and Paz would probably never leave it should this bitch go on. Did the Nav even _know_ Sandova was Hylerian? They couldn’t.

Rahm assured her many, many times she would fit in well, as if telling her this would magically make her think any differently. She didn’t care. She didn’t want to hang out with more Hylerians. She wanted—wanted the one who she already at least knew, for reasons she couldn’t currently admit. If she displayed those weaknesses then these two would use it against her and she couldn’t have that.

So she kept listening, kept dully nodding, kept feigning shock that her universe was about to fully change, forever. This went on for _hours_. They asked her and Desh dozens of questions about the Lakai—she couldn’t help them with that being so ignorant of details, and Desh…wouldn’t, which earned him one on one time with Rahm elsewhere. Paz nearly peed her pants alone with Sandova but the other woman was unbelievably kind. She asked Paz all about the Osiris instead, to which Paz made shit up and fed her wrong information because like hell she was going to give a pirate access to her crew.

That was the second thing that really pissed her off. She wasn’t into being ordered around or told how things were going to be. With Coram, at least he’d bargained. He’d _given_ her something to cling to. All Sandova had to offer was some bogus propaganda about how she had an awesome team. That wasn’t anything Paz wanted and no, the irony wasn’t lost on her—if Reeser could’ve heard this conversation he’d be laughing at her. Served her right for trying to do the same to him.

When Rahm returned he was alone and he excused the other Hylerian saying he needed time to adjust. Paz didn’t miss the fact where the knuckles on his left hand were split, and she then understood exactly why Desh had been so stoic. No matter how he felt, he’d had no other choice.

That was the third and final thing that supremely pissed her off. While the two kept discussing how great things could be, while they professed their sympathy toward her unfortunate situation, while they asked more about Guinto (because of course Rahm had shared), she burrowed deep into her thoughts and tried disassociating.

This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening, and the more she stewed on it the more she wished she wasn’t a coward and could lash out, too. She would, if Sandova wasn’t such a hulk. Paz needed to be free if she was going to do anything, and goddamnit she was going to do something.

But she didn’t know how, not yet. Rahm and Sandova sat with her for ages, well into the afternoon, acting like worried parents over her wellbeing. Eventually she thought to check her comm, scouring Beta’s network while they chatted at her and learning all about how the Nav now had Coram Halverson (he had a last name—she hadn’t known he had one) in their possession. Many, _many_ news vids showed Nav captains and commanders discussing his evasion and how they would be holding him accountable for _everything_. She even saw a vid of the captain himself in handcuffs behind his back, shirtless, his naked face and beautiful body swollen and peppered in cuts and various bruises. They…truly had him, and they were flaunting it.

And the people who were supposed to stand by him, his _own_ people, who he trusted, were okay with it. Weren’t going to lift a finger to even protest his capture.

Despite everything, _that_ was what ultimately decided her plans. _She_ was going to go find Coram and demand answers. Didn’t matter how it happened but she wasn’t about to let him out of their agreement and leave her to these fuckers that easily.

And, she felt a little—

No, no, she wasn’t going to think about what they’d done. It’d been a release, nothing more. It meant nothing—he meant nothing. It was just disappointing to see no one had his back. Er, well—

Fuck, she just wanted him back, okay? _Why_ was nobody’s business.

Fine. Fine, she was going to bust his sorry ass out so she didn’t end up in worse hands. The instant Rahm sent her to bed she went, ready to be alone and plot her next step. The older Hylerian escorted her, kindly telling her she was doing quite well for having so much information dumped on her at once, which was cool and all but she didn’t want to think about it. Instead she just flopped on her bed, limbs like jelly from holding in her ire all day. Rahm eyed her a second time.

“It’s really for the best. I promise.”

“Man, it doesn’t sound like it when you say it like that,” she huffed, rolling over so she didn’t have to see him. “Sorry.”

He sighed. “I know.”

She wouldn’t have missed the click of the lock when he shut the door for anything and she practically flew off her bed, yanking on the door maybe two seconds later. It was secured shut, to keep her in.

Oh, _double-crosser_.

“Are you— _Rahm_!” she screamed, banging on the metal next. “Rahm!” Some shuffling answered that. She screamed louder, all sorts of curses spilling forth. “Rahm, I’m gonna murder you if you don’t open this fucking door. This is _not_ how you treat people!”

“Sorry, Miss Paz,” Sandova answered for him, sounding fairly close. “Cool your heels. I promise this is for the best. You’ll be safe with us.”

The high-pitched wail she uttered wasn’t her finest moment but Paz let it all out, sliding to the floor in a heap. She wanted to throttle someone, wanted to break every thing she could get her hands on. She settled for kicking her legs really hard on the door instead, swearing all sorts of lovely threats while she was at it.

Rahm was such a fucking liar. She’d believed the nice guy act. _She’d believed him._ She didn’t _want_ their protection. Didn’t want someone else holding onto her like some messed up prize. She wanted to go home. What was so hard to understand about that? Being passed over to someone even Val wouldn’t tangle with wasn’t remotely equivalent.

All her rage spilled over in one more, incredibly loud shriek, and then Paz collapsed on the concrete, gasping for air. Panic took over, spreading through her body and convincing her this was it. Fuck, this was fucking it and now she wasn’t even going to go home or find out what the stupid keys were for _and_ Coram was probably going to be tortured to death via the Nav and she didn’t want to care but she fucking did and she _couldn’t stand being locked up like some kind of prisoner_. Slave, bought, Hylerian, whatever—she was not going to be holed up unless _she_ agreed to it. She’d die before agreeing to anything those bastards said. No matter how good their intentions might be they weren’t listening to her. She might as well have been invisible—

She bolted upright, quickly wiping away stressful tears and glancing around the room. Up above were panels and if she launched from the bed she could probably tear them off. But, there would be no need for those today. No, she just needed to make it look like it.

“Escape part two,” she confirmed to herself, a terribly loose and wild idea forming as she hauled to her feet and started for her backpack. Inside she found the knife she’d grabbed from Guinto’s stash (in her obsession over the gun she’d forgotten about it), and then her absom samples. Both were pocketed for easy access, because she sure as hell wouldn’t mind poisoning some Hylerians today. Damn, she’d warped to that kind of thinking pretty easily, but she wanted the brand of evil she had a contract with, not the one attempting to bury her with unoriginal promises. Least with Coram she had some sort of idea what kind of stupidity they’d get into.

Damn, she had to calm herself as she shoved anything of value into her pack. Her hands shook, body in the same condition. Rahm and that bitch had really pissed her off, more than she could imagine, even more than Fiala. This was all such bullshit. She was going to kill—

No, no, she’d leave them alone. Not because they deserved it but because they weren’t worth the time. But, if it came down to it…well, she couldn’t make any promises.

Packed, she zoomed to the mirror by the door and forced down some deep, cleansing breaths.

“You can do this.” Just get out of here, collect the stupid stick and gun, wherever they were, and figure out the rest on the way. Maybe even nab Desh while she was at it. She couldn’t fight Rahm and Sandova fairly, and Desh would be helpful for several things. Not like she had any intentions of actually fighting, but it wouldn’t hurt to have backup.

“You got this,” she murmured again, staring hard at the mirror until there was a shudder and her non-visible mod returned, coating her in its mock illusion from head to toe and all the way to her backpack. It wasn’t as invisible as she’d hoped—she could see a vague shadow—but it’d do the trick.

She had no idea what she was about to do beyond the part where she escaped but ideas were coming to mind. All she knew was she’d panicked, she’d led them to believe she’d agree to their terms and conditions, and now she had to backtrack and get the fuck out of here before anything came of those goddamned promises. Desh could provide some muscle and get her to the Nav’s compound if she was feeling generous, but other than that, if he wasn’t on board with her plans then he could sit and rot _here_ and she’d simply poison everyone.

Oh yes, in her spare time she’d been looking up absom. After checking multiple network forums she’d learned the substance now clinking in her pocket was exactly as toxic and lethal as Aim led her to believe. Just a little and people’s lungs would be irritated, their throats potentially closing. A lot and they were choking to death on blood from the inside out. The skin would grow puffy and crack, and in general it’d be a miserable end.

She would absolutely threaten that kind of misery if no one let her have her way.

Twisting around, she jumped upon her bed and stretched for the ceiling’s panels, fingertips grazing the metal. She still couldn’t believe Coram had been caught. He was stubborn, sure, but he seemed clever enough to keep himself off anyone’s radar. She hadn’t known where he’d gone after they—you know, or what he’d done. It wouldn’t have had something to do with that. It couldn’t.

And leaving Desh out of it? Whatever was going on she just knew Desh could give her some insight. Since he didn’t seem inclined to answer her pings then she supposed she’d demand answers soon as she made it out of the room, which would require some trickery but…she had a plan for that.

Yes, Topaz Omorin had a plan. At least for the next few minutes. She reached even higher, joints pulling in their sockets until she had her nails under one panel, prying on it with all her might. It took a minute but she wiggled and wiggled, whole body straining until one corner popped free. After that all she had to do was lower herself and the panel came clean off.

Perfect.

She hopped off the bed with it in her hands, taking the three or four steps back to the door. A quick check in the mirror confirmed she was still just a shadow, and then she slammed the panel against the barrier as hard as she possibly could.

The bang it created hurt even her ears. Congratulating herself on a job well done, Paz dropped it on the floor and swiveled to pack herself right behind the door on its other side. She could already hear footsteps thudding down the hall, quick and angry and everything she wanted. If that door opened she needed to slip out as soon as she could. Otherwise, she might very well need to hop up into that gaping hole and hope it led somewhere.

Thankfully the door slid open with a hiss, Rahm making the room that much smaller with his large presence. He took one look at the hole in the ceiling, then the dented panel on the ground, and uttered a very colorful string of foulness. Paz smirked, resisted the urge to strangle him right there, and braced herself while he quickly scanned the room, panicked gold eyes passing right over her.

_That’s what you get, motherfucker_.

She followed him right out into the hall, both nearly crashing into Sandova. Paz let Rahm gush the news, quickly backing up behind him and down the hall toward Desh’s door. It wasn’t far, but she wanted away from the other two immediately. She needed to figure out how to best initiate her next step.

“What’d she—?” Sandova didn’t even finish her first question as she looked into Paz’s room. Then she was in there and up on the bed, surprise momentarily blinding her while she tried fitting into the tiny opening. Paz wanted to high-five herself—of course that hulk wasn’t going to be able to ‘follow’ her into the ceiling. Neither of them would fit.

“Where’s it go?” Sandova shouted at Rahm, who grunted the least knowledgeable answer ever. That served to piss the other woman off, and Paz so enjoyed listening to them devolve into a snappy argument, both their caring masks gone. She couldn’t trust pretty people any longer, especially not ones who tried flattering her or pretended they were looking out for her best interests.

She let them argue for a good long moment, then slid to Desh’s door. A quick nudge confirmed it was also locked (because of course it was). Well, hopefully he could play along, because she wasn’t about to announce herself.

Not in a nice way, anyway.

One balled-up fist careened into the door’s surface, multiple times, until she caught Sandova rushing down the hall in her peripheral, Rahm following right behind. She slithered back a few paces before they crashed into her, personally impressed with her terrible idea the instant Rahm unlocked it and jumped inside. Sandova was his shadow, both immediately yelling at Desh as if he might’ve had something to do with their escaped prisoner.

Paz slid in after the other woman, carefully picking her way into a cramped corner while they huffed and puffed and Desh, clearly bewildered, lay half-sprawled on his bed like he had no idea what was going on. He didn’t, not yet, but he would.

Crouching, she watched them interrogate Desh. Rahm went so far as to pull him up by the collar and scream in his face, a new side of him she honestly hadn’t thought the older man had in him. Lovely. Distracted, she squinted about the room, searching for what she needed. The stick was still in here, she could feel it, as was the gun…somewhere. She just couldn’t see it, but it felt close to Desh.

Why hadn’t he tried it?

“You know where your friend is?” Rahm demanded, skin a deep shade of ruddy purple, barely an inch from Desh’s flinching face. “Huh? Yah, you know what she’s planning?”

Damn, Rahm didn’t think much of her, did he? And to think she’d willingly made herself vulnerable for him. Who cared if he’d fixed her comm or helped with patching up her rib? He was a bastard through and through.

“I—what?” Desh managed, his slurred confusion real. It only took Paz a second to understand he must’ve been incapacitated earlier. How else would they have been able to actively wrangle him into a room when his captain was in peril? Whatever. It didn’t matter at the moment so long as he could move. Her vision splattered red before she could clamp down on the ensuing rage anyway—there weren’t too many redeeming qualities about Rahm and Sandova at the moment.

Nobody used her as a pawn in their own game, and she was beginning to get the idea that’s exactly what’d gone on. They hadn’t even told her what the game _was_.

_Come on_ , she chanted inwardly, keeping both Rahm and Sandova’s hovering figure in sight at all times. _Come on, leave him alone and go fuck off elsewhere. I’ve got things to do_.

“I don’t know,” Desh choked out, busy being shaken over his bed. At any other moment Paz would laugh but she’d noted two things by now—one, he was still a little out of it and two, rocking a Hylerian face she’d never seen. And even though she’d never seen it she knew it contained _true_ fear. If…if Coram’s face had been exposed then…no, this was probably just a…but why would he change his face again? Real mods were hard to slap on and off—they weren’t merely an illusion like hers.

Hmm. Well, if this was by chance his real face then ye, he and Coram definitely weren’t related. He was mostly handsome, even if he currently sported a crooked nose and dried, crusted blood smeared down his mouth and chin.

She’d think about that more in depth at a later time. For now she waited with breath held, impatiently praying for the others to get the fuck out of here. Rahm bitched some more but eventually grew tired, dropping Desh and swiveling to Sandova. He never even suspected Paz crouched just two meters away.

“She can’t have gone far. There’s only so much space between here and the shop.”

Sandova had both hands on her hips, having already forgotten Desh. “Any chance it can be breached?”

“Unlikely.” Rahm’s lips pursed. “Even she can’t hold her breath long enough through the pipes.”

Behind them Desh snorted. Through his confusion he’d sorted out the gist of the situation. “You lost her? Tch, figures.”

Peeved, Sandova sneered. “Careful, Desh. You might just get _lost_ , too.”

“That’d be nice.” Sighing, he slowly righted himself on the bed, bleary eyes sweeping his room. He, too, didn’t notice Paz. “Damn, if she’s out there she’ll…”

“She’ll what?” Rahm demanded after a huff, anxiously palming over his jaw. Desh grew quiet, mulling over his thoughts.

“She won’t hesitate to tell the Nav. About you. About us.”

“But she—”

“You think she cares?” Desh wore a feral smirk, head dropping to his hands. “Whatever you just did, we’re fucked. We’re _all_ fucked.”

Oh, Paz delighted in hearing him say so. The others? Not so much.

Sandova growled, turning on a heel and shoving into the hall. “Not if I can help it.”

Rahm followed, both abandoning Desh and slamming the door shut behind them. It locked back into place, leaving Desh seemingly alone in complete and utter silence. He mumbled something under his breath, head lowering further. It sounded a little like ‘we’re _so_ fucked’ which, honestly, was accurate so far as he knew.

She took that as her opportunity to spring. Her shield went down and Paz rose, uncaring how much noise she made now. Desh started like she knew he would and she swept in close, blocking his wide-eyed face in a second.

“Where’s my gun?” she hissed before he could say anything, because to her that was the most important thing, the _only_ way to even the playing field. Desh dumbly stared before snapping out of it, chin jutting down. She gave him enough room to lean over and dig between his mattress and the frame. What a stupid spot.

“Can you work it?” he quietly inquired, appearing just a tad apprehensive about handing it over. “I tried messing with it on the way in but it’s so awkward.”

Paz barely contained herself. “Look at you, suddenly all business now that everything’s on the line.”

“Can you?” he repeated, pausing. She uttered an indignant sigh.

“ _Yes_.”

“Good.” Pulling up, he extracted Guinto’s rifle and offered it without any further need for confirmation. She found it funny he now assumed they were on the same side. They were, she supposed, but she wouldn’t have handed any weapons over so easily.

She snatched it in one swift movement, gripping it tight. “Good. Now, the stick.”

Again Desh reached over, this time for his nearby pair of boots. He jimmied out the black stone from the right shoe with a grim look. Paz tried not to gag, motioning he keep it. At least he’d kept it safe, right? Man, she didn’t want to touch it. He could hold onto it—for now.

She addressed him with her best, no-nonsense glare, body just as tense. This was the part where everything came together or she had to improvise. “Your captain’s probably somewhere in Nav headquarters. I have some questions so I intend to go get him, then leave this shithole. I could use your help but if not then…no hard feelings or whatever.”

He was already nodding, rising from the bed on wobbly feet. “Yes. Hell yes. What’ve you got in mind?”

Oh, thank goodness he was down for her cause. Paz shifted to give him some space. “No idea besides the part where he’s with us when we leave. Right now I just need out of _here_.”

He wobbled a little less, one foot still raised before jamming it into his left boot. “Uh, you don’t have a plan?”

It was like he’d learned nothing about her. Fair enough given she knew nothing about him besides he was a dick, but Paz still rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry, I _just_ figured all this shit out. That’s why I _asked_ if you wanted to come along.”

His gaze went blank, then steeled. He had really pretty, silvery eyes. Paz almost felt bad he had to keep them covered.

“Okay,” he agreed, glancing at the door and nodding again. “Okay. We bust out, then figure shit out from there. Silent or loud as fuck, I don’t care.”

“Great.” She breathed in relief, already stepping that way. “I _guess_ silent would be more prudent but ye, I don’t really care, either. You ready?”

“Can you pick the lock?” he questioned behind her. Flipping her hair over one shoulder, Paz raised the rifle. He had so little faith in her.

“Nope, but this should do the trick. Get back and keep the stick safe.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Desh murmured, staying back for the moment to lace up his boots anyway. She bristled at the title but didn’t bitch, not now. No, she pointed the rifle down at the lower left corner of the door, braced herself in a wide-legged stance, and pulled the trigger.

At least Desh prevented her from banging her head on anything too hard. Paz slammed back just like before with the clanging impact, but the rifle did its job. With a resounding boom half the door, and the wall, were gone, the metal still being eaten at by a vicious, white-hot plasma. Molten metal even dripped down to the grates in hissing splatters.

And having hit Desh pretty much right afterward, Paz hissed just as much, reeling against the other Hylerian. He had an arm holding her steady, neck craned over her to survey the damage. Her ears rang but she knew he was cursing mightily.

They’d hear a lot more of that soon. Keeping the rifle in her clutches, Paz struggled upright and nodded for the gaping hole that stretched out into the hall and into the next wall. If Rahm and Sandova hadn’t heard that then they weren’t here any longer, but that was doubtful. They had to move, now.

The floor was already quaking. Pushing on her back, Desh nudged Paz forward. Together they ducked beneath still-hot metal and popped into the hall. Neither needed time to adjust, not even Desh when their lives were on the line. He quickly slid in front of her, beckoning she follow. Paz did just that, both their footsteps thundering down the hall in the direction of the rec area. They were bound to run into the others at some point, and so despite his fast pace they tried rounding through corridors as carefully as possible.

Which was a good thing because Sandova nearly impaled Desh when he whipped into the rec area, just barely avoiding a stake she’d grabbed from somewhere, presumably upstairs given its techy look. Thankfully, Desh managed twisting on his feet, grabbing Paz while he was at it and yanking her against the wall, too. She wasted no time, rifle up at aimed at Sandova with a grim snarl.

Unable to not see the rifle at her chest, Sandova froze. The stake dropped to the ground with a clatter. Good. She understood this was serious.

“I’m not in the mood to negotiate,” Paz barked at her, each word clipped. Desh’s hold was forgotten, the universe dwindling down to the tunnel before her that contained the other woman. “Turn around, walk away, or these are your last couple breaths. Alright?”

Was it dramatic? Yes, but it worked. Sandova held still, staring hard at Paz. She hadn’t known Paz had a backbone, hadn’t realized the crying girl upstairs was a complete and utter lie. And Rahm, wherever he was, only saw her as a lost yet bubbly flirt. She didn’t appreciate having been on such good behavior lately, yet for all intents and purposes it _had_ worked in her favor.

“I’m gonna say this once,” she growled at Sandova, shifting just slightly. “I’m not hanging out with you guys—I’m not doing _anything_ you think is best. I don’t care if you knew my dad or whatever. All I know is I’m sick of being here and I’m going home, and I need this asshole to do it. So. Get in our way and I will _gladly_ melt you down, limb by limb.”

“Paz,” Desh murmured just a couple centimeters away. She shook her head, eyes glued to Sandova; she knew what he was trying to say.

“I don’t care if there aren’t many of us left,” she reminded them both. “Get in my way and you’ll be just as expendable as anyone else. Understand?”

“You’re pretty confident, Miss Paz,” Rahm succinctly remarked from another hall’s entrance. He merely stood there, presumably waiting to call her bluff. She wasn’t interested in bluffs. Paz’s upper lip curled.

“I will blow so many holes in this place you lying sack of shit. You want to see what your ancestor’s tech can do? Here; I’ll give you a demonstration.”

“Please don’t,” he flatly discouraged, resolve cracking. “We…heard. Miss Paz, just—think about this. We’re on the same side, we thought you’d be safer with—”

“You locked me up!” Paz shot back, aim still on Sandova. “Ineffective, but it did piss me off so thanks for that, I guess. Anyway, I think that puts us on _very_ different sides.”

“Paz,” Rahm tried again, grasping for anything now. “We won’t—you don’t want to do this. Let’s talk about this, alright?”

“Already said I don’t want to negotiate,” she trilled, very firm on her decision. Even if Desh had a fit, she’d definitely do whatever it took to get out of here, and she was not putting this rifle down until they were gone.

“No one needs to get hurt,” Rahm lightly reasoned, seeming to understand she wasn’t kidding. “Let’s talk. We don’t intend to harm you.”

“Nah, I call that a lie, and I’ve heard this kind of shit before.” She briefly flitted lethally calm eyes to him, blinking slowly. Deliberately. “Pretty recently, too, when Fiala Damante was in front of me. Just. Like. This.”

They knew. From the look on both their faces she knew they knew who Fiala was and now who’d been the cause of her demise. It was damning evidence but she truly didn’t care. Paz straightened, an arrogance she usually didn’t convey coming over her. She was incredibly pleased to see Sandova slowly dropping to her knees. So, too, did Rahm, lowering to the concrete with a troubled frown. Paz already knew what he was doing just by the way his eyelids shuttered. Maybe he was contacting the Nav, or the Federation. Perhaps one of his cohorts or Fiala’s. It didn’t matter, not to her.

“Go,” Sandova decided in a whisper, barely containing herself. “We’ll…we won’t follow.”

“I would’ve expected you to put up a bigger fight,” Paz crooned, never once lowering her guard. “Sorry you dragged your ass here for nothing.”

The captain of the Jaro said nothing else, her shoulders shivering instead. Mostly satisfied, Paz lurched to the left just as Desh did the same, both moving for the exit without another word. The rifle never stopped aiming, of course. Honestly, with all the weaponry at her disposal she felt like she’d let these two off easily.

And, because she couldn’t help herself, she had to get in the last word. It was just something Paz _had_ to do.

“Next time you pull a fast one like that I won’t be as nice!” she hollered, allowing Desh to drag her backwards down the exit hallway. At least he had the good sense to keep her from tripping. “Next time you’ll _really_ wish I was with the Nav—maybe they could contain me. But you two? Fucking _never_!”

“Stop,” Desh hissed under his breath, but he didn’t physically make her, instead herding her for the exit as quickly as possible. Paz obeyed, if only because she was too busy patting herself on the back.

As if anyone, Hylerian or otherwise, was going to hold her captive. She had a comm and firepower now. And if Coram didn’t send her home here soon, he’d also feel the full force of her wrath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaaat, is this the beginning of a beautiful friendship????


	41. Ch 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paz and Desh have a forced heart to heart and figure out their next move.

“ _Fuck_.”

Desh’s strangled hiss would’ve been nice to hear at any other time. Huddled in a back alley within Beta’s slums, however, it wasn’t nearly as pleasurable and made Paz cringe.

At least it was dark. That was a good thing going for them. She would rather not be digging her fingers into the flesh behind Desh’s left ear, but well…they had no other options.

He was on his knees, shaking just slightly while she crouched behind him, staring hard at the small gouge she’d cut. It seemed to grow by the minute the more she dug in, and she absolutely hated the slippery feel of blood coating her fingers and hands, and dribbling down her elbows. They had to reset his comm. Otherwise there was no way in hell he’d make it any deeper into Beta or to the docks, which was where they probably needed to go, preferably before dawn when there weren’t many people around.

She’d flatly refused at first, hadn’t even thought of it until Desh desperately informed her they’d definitely be caught with his real mug available for anyone to see. Therefore, if she wanted to leave then his comm needed reactivated so he could pull up literally _any_ mod available.

Fine. She’d do it. But she wasn’t enjoying it one bit and they’d been at it for about twenty minutes now. How Desh hadn’t passed out she had no clue—she hadn’t understood how Coram withstood the pain, either. She’d poked and prodded where he said to slice him open, hoping it’d be over soon. Instead, her patient just kept hissing.

“You have to—just—there should be a p-pin.”

Ye, he’d already mentioned that multiple times, like she was stupid. Paz hadn’t felt anything like that though, just slick muscle and bone that made her want to puke.

“Are you _sure_ it’s on this side?” she tightly gasped, doing her best not to breathe. The heady scent of iron was making her lightheaded. “I really—dude, I don’t feel it.”

His whole body went taut. She knew he wanted to yell but couldn’t; she’d saved his ass and they both knew it. Beyond that, she had the rifle strapped to her back. He’d only been given her knife in case they were followed, and even now it was technically in Paz’s possession since she’d needed it to perform amateur surgery.

“Deeper,” he advised through gritted teeth. “Push—deeper.”

Almost wishing she’d left him at Rahm’s, Paz quickly glanced up and down the alley. Still empty. Good. “I really, _really_ don’t like this.”

“No one does,” he replied, voice quieter than his anxious breaths, fists clenching on his thighs.

“Sorry he cut it off,” she grumbled, meaning their former host, who’d fucked Desh’s comm as thoroughly as Paz’s had been. If all she needed was to have it reset, great. But, if it had to be reset this way…mm, she’d stick with Guinto’s comm. That one worked and required no bloodshed. Her fingers pushed in just like Desh asked. “Sorry you…can’t show your face.”

For a while he was silent, shivering while she prodded. The only noises around them were far-away rig sirens or raucous laughter from a nearby kitchen, its backdoor cracked slightly. Normally Paz liked the scent of fried food but not when so much blood lingered in front of her.

“Sorry you’re here,” he finally apologized, neck tilting, tendons bulging. “This was never—never the intention.”

“Mm,” she guardedly hummed, fingernail niggling at something hard—an implant, maybe. “Kinda figured that was the case a couple days ago.”

“No, n-none of this,” he argued, panting slightly. “It wasn’t— _fuck_ —supposed to be hard. You weren’t—we didn’t think you’d f-fucking try and kill yourself. Didn’t think—ugh—think you’d take out a dealer, or piss off the N-Nav.”

“It’s like you never read up on my exploits,” she calmly chided, fingers squelching around that bit. “I told you—I do whatever it takes to get shit done.”

“We’ve noticed.”

“Ye, a little late.” Why she was being so honest with him she didn’t know. “It’s what I do. What I’ve always done. And nah, before you go into that dad bullshit, it has nothing to do with him.”

He groaned in pain after attempting to laugh. Looking over his shoulder she noted both his fists were balled super tight and braced at his middle now.

“Guess they can confirm you’re alive now.”

“And happily staying out of the Hylerian gang, thanks,” she primly answered. There was—yes, there was a pin. She could feel it. “If I’m joining a gang it’d be with one of the Triad branches. At least they have credits.”

“Sandova does— _agh_ —too.”

“Ye, but I know who she is. I know what she does. She murders crews like Val’s. No, thanks.”

“You would’ve murdered her.”

“Because she lied— _they_ lied. I’m not like, a tech engineer or anything, but I’m not that stupid. I know when I’m being lied to.” For the most part. After a second she added, “Never trust pretty people's pretty words, Desh. That’s my takeaway from this whole clusterfuck.”

Desh grunted. Apparently he agreed. Wiggling her finger, she pushed hard on the pin, hoping it’d do something. It didn’t feel like it but by now her skin ached from so much pressure. Since he wasn’t protesting she bore down, grabbing him by the shoulder and holding him against her for leverage. If anyone happened to walk by they might think she was slowly…ripping his head off? Sexily wrestling him? Thank the stars no one had.

“It’s true,” he softly remarked, apparently unaware she could kill him in this position. She let him go on, somewhat curious what he meant. “About—your captain. Sorry.”

Exhaling loudly, she didn’t bother saying anything more about it. They could tell her all sorts of shit about Val, but unless they _were_ the Osiris’s captain then she had no inclination to care. Instead she held his head firmly, waiting for any indication it was working. Head tilting, she eyed the twinkling sky high above, its slum-side much darker than what she supposed was over the city. The city that was higher up than its surrounding slums.

Hmm.

“Beta’s higher up than here,” she tepidly announced. Desh, bless his irritating soul, somehow had an answer for that.

“Ye. Tunnels.”

“Tunnels?”

“Fail-safe for the atmosphere. They didn’t just s-set up shop overnight.”

No, of course not. Of course they’d have a sealed colony somewhere, apparently in the form of a secret underground. Mind spinning, Paz followed a conspicuous thought. “Are they…do they still use them?”

“I don’t know,” he revealed, letting the obvious remain unsaid—Rahm would. Paz still had the liar as a contact, but she wasn’t about to ask him. She went quiet, pulling up her own comm and multi-tasking, asking Beta’s network instead. Fed people liked a good mystery, and she struck gold as she found forum after forum dedicated to taking ‘forbidden’ tours of these tunnels.

Holy fuck, it was an entire maze. They could theoretically move from one end of the colony to the other by navigating through those bad boys.

“W-why?” Desh prompted when she didn’t go on. Blinking, Paz glanced down to his crown (he had beautifully dark hair, she’d noted earlier on in their flight from Rahm’s).

“Because,” she mused, still thinking. Nav headquarters was like _the_ epicenter of Beta. It also looked nearly exactly like their headquarters in Alpha—the main complex, at least—and that one had been a decoy sitting on top of a massive…vault.

Coram was being held at headquarters from what she’d already gathered on Beta’s network. What if…what if Beta’s underground was connected to headquarters? Why wouldn’t it given how important it was? They were probably also connected to the docks for the same reason. Both places they’d need to stop at. Therefore…

“Fuck,” Desh gasped, pulling from her in a whole-bodied jerk. Paz’s fingers popped from the wound and she quickly wiped at them as he crawled forward, head shaking erratically. “Fuck, it’s—there it is!”

She couldn’t get his blood off fast enough. “Your comm?”

He laughed—of all people _he_ was laughing, flopping to his side while he took a deep, clearly relieved breath between guffaws. “Yes! Yes, it’s back. Oh, fuck! Give me a second to boot.”

Only half disgusted, Paz managed a soft smile. She’d felt exactly like that a couple days ago. He could have a few minutes rolling around in a filthy alley to celebrate. Man, they’d need a sani-gel bath soon.

His comm booted fairly quickly. In less than five minutes he’d recomposed himself and sat up, his face one of which she’d seen before aboard the Lakai. As he grew used to the newish proportions he tugged on the neck of his dirty shirt, mopping up more blood. Paz studied his shaky movements. She’d finalized her scheme while waiting, ready to lay it on him.

“There’s an entrance to the tunnels two kilometers to our right,” she announced, keeping her eyes on him even as he stilled. “We’re going to use them. It’s easier than trying to storm the Nav.”

“We’re—.” He blinked several more times. “We’re storming the Nav.” He wasn’t questioning it. Paz flashed her teeth.

“It’s gotta connect, and we have firepower. We go in, grab the douchebag, then escape the same way to the docks where we steal a ship and zip off.”

Honestly, she was very proud of her plan. Until he adamantly shook his head, eyes gleaming in the dark.

“No. No, the Nav’s smart. We won’t get out how we came in. They’ll have it surrounded.”

Oh. Right. She’d forgotten they weren’t completely inept. “Then…”

Those still bright eyes widened in thought. “You’re gonna head in. Yes, perfect. I’ll keep going and grab us a ship, then—you head up. Nav won’t expect that what with your shield thing, ye? You keep going up, up, up, and—”

“Soon as I give the word you’ll swoop in,” she finished. She scooted closer to him, liking this plan immensely. “Yes! You think you could get in close enough without being caught?”

He offered a serious nod. “Ye. I’m a better pilot than Cor. I’ll make it happen.”

“And then we’ll jet,” she slyly concluded, beaming now. She snickered in satisfaction. “I think we just planned something together, man.”

He didn’t laugh but there was a slight smirk pulling on Desh’s lips. “Never thought that’d happen.”

And it probably never would again, either. Rising and stretching cramped legs, Paz hefted her pack. One foot edged over the knife, though when he shook his head she stooped to pocket that as well. “Ye, well, unless your captain gets himself caught twice I doubt we’ll ever do this again, either. You ready?”

He nodded, knees popping as he first attempted righting himself without any support, then pulled himself up with only the nearby alley wall. She was already headed for the main street, messing with her surface mods to pull up her Lady Virgo face. It took a while to notice he wasn’t following.

“What? You can walk, ye?” Even with the last vestiges of some kind of drug in his system he’d had no problem hustling out of Rahm’s.

“Why do you want him out?”

Ah, he’d taken that ‘trust nobody pretty’ to heart. Swiveling, Paz sucked on her teeth as she eyed his darkened figure. _Why_ wasn’t any of his business—even she was still figuring that out.

“Does it matter?” she wondered, sure it didn’t. “You want him out and I got us to the point where we might pull it off. What, you think I’m gonna go in there and tell on him myself? Or kill him while I have the chance?”

He stared back in a fierce glare, clearly protective of his own. At least mentioning the murder part hadn’t made him more tense.

“ _Why_?”

Huffing, Paz leaned a shoulder against the wall. “Because I need answers about the sticks and aliens and he wouldn’t give them to me. Therefore, he needs to be alive for two reasons—one, so I can go home and two, so I can get that information.”

Desh cocked his head. He looked odd when he did it, towering over her like some kind of giant. “Aliens? What the fuck are you talking about?”

Now she was blinking and confused, too. “Uh, ye. Didn’t Rahm tell you guys? Didn’t…?”

Coram hadn’t said anything, either? Seriously? Ugh. Well, it wasn’t like Desh was going to go back into Alpha to verify everything. She jutted her chin toward the street once more. “Let’s go. I’ll tell you on the way.”

“Do you actually intend to get him out?” Desh demanded, like he’d already forgotten about the rest and suddenly honed in on her previous remarks. “Or, what—you go in there and actually kill him? Are you sure this isn’t some part of your own stupid plan?”

She started to bitch but stopped herself, chest filling with a mix of regret and defensiveness. _He_ didn’t trust her? Fine, but she’d gotten him out of Rahm’s house. If that didn’t signify a temporary truce then she wasn’t sure what would. Thus, she supposed the truth was the same as coming up with any other excuse.

“Well, Desh, I’ve fucked him twice now, on purpose. Why would I want to kill him?”

At least he choked so she knew she was being just as crazy as it sounded, but as Desh cleared his throat he did mosey closer to the alley’s end. The way he frowned she could tell Coram hadn’t told him about the second time (at least he’d kept his word).

“It’s stupid, I know,” she added in a grumble, grateful for the wall. “And…you didn’t hear it from me, okay? This stays here.”

“I…” Sidling around her, Desh barely looked injured now. Surprised though, definitely, if the huge exhale was any indication. “Okay. So. You’ll—”

“I’ll fucking get him out,” she growled, bristling as he stepped into the street. “Worry about making a rig appear nearby, alright?”

“Worry about yourself,” he loftily answered, beckoning her along with waggling fingers. “So, what’s this about aliens?”

Oh, if he’d just had his mind blown then he was in for another jolt. Paz pushed after him and back under the slum’s neon advertisements, both blending into the night population while she gave him a rundown of what’d gone on in Alpha.

Unlike Rahm, at least he was reasonably impressed.


	42. Ch 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here's where the conspiracies begin, take it as you will, but Paz is on a mission and she's going to do whatever it takes to accomplish that mission, no matter how bumpy it gets *power bicep curls!*

Gaining access to Beta’s underground wasn’t as difficult as either thought it’d be. Apparently, if one gave it enough centuries nobody would remember the crumbling, musty underbelly of a colony and the only people to trespass were bored teenagers and a sprinkling of vagrants. For Paz and Desh this would do.

They found an entrance not far from the slums in the form of a broken-hinged hatch (some good that’d do in the event of a colony failure) and entered into an unlit, partially caved-in maze of…yep, tunnels, each one big enough to house small rovers. They were carved into Beta’s bedrock, and the fact some corridors were lined in puddles of some kind meant that rock held moisture from…somewhere. The sea? Underground aquifers? Paz didn’t really consider it much beyond hating how wet her borrowed boots were.

She didn’t like the cloying dark, either, but well, not much they could do about that, comms deciphering what they could. It was suffocating, sure, but a great deterrent for any kind of company besides rats of which, shockingly, there weren’t many.

Despite the dark it wasn’t difficult navigating, thankfully. Both had a map pulled up of Beta, tracking their proximity to Nav headquarters. As they practically jogged through corridor after ancient corridor, they’d finalized their plan: Desh would escort Paz until she was beneath the Nav, then zip off to the docks and grab a ship. They’d narrowed their group pings down to just them (Coram was kicked out for various reasons, just in case the Nav had looked at his logs) and would keep in constant contact.

If Paz was caught they wouldn’t be able to access hers, not without a fight, making her as the infiltrator even better. If Desh was caught, however, he’d shut his down from the inside out. They were on their own if anything did happen which…sucked, but at least there was a chance someone might make it if this didn’t work. Probably Desh, if they were being honest, but still. No matter how bad she wanted to see Sam, Desh _was_ the least expendable.

They never saw a soul beyond a couple skeletons near the entrance, which was good. It really helped with morale, keeping at least Paz brave while winding closer and closer to headquarters. At the same time she grew more irritated with Coram with each meter passed. However he’d been captured he should’ve known better. He was a _wanted_ person—it’d been that way for years. He wasn’t new to hiding. He should’ve…should’ve known better.

She finally mentioned this to Desh who bitterly informed her Rahm had turned him in.

And then he had to grab her before she turned right around to murder their former host.

“ _Why_!?” she’d (unfortunately) shrieked, way too close to him and hurting both their ears. It was hard to stay calm when she really, _really_ wanted to chop Rahm up into itty bitty pieces. All sorts of rage had her flailing to go back but Desh held on tight, shoving her onward instead. They had things to do, and focusing on Rahm wasn’t going to accomplish anything.

“Because,” was all he roughly said, eyes always ahead. “Bad blood.”

That was _not_ a satisfying answer but…well, Paz understood, she supposed, grudgingly moved forward with him. She’d seen that kind of ‘bad blood’ before, knew it could poison all sorts of relationships. Val and Fiala were the obvious example of that, but even their pilot, Lonyn…she’d mentioned something once, a _long_ time ago and while extremely drunk, about some bitch who’d been that final straw before her decision to abandon the Nav. She’d never discussed it again, having apparently buried the wound very deep.

So Paz understood. She still wanted to murder Rahm. And Sandova because she’d been present and probably encouraged it.

When she wondered why Coram had been dumb enough to stay with Rahm then, Desh merely replied that it was their only choice.

Ugh. Fucking dickheads, all of them. Paz could’ve given them a million other options. She couldn’t think of any currently, but surely there were other options besides staying with someone the captain didn’t even like all that much.

Whatever. They forged on, air growing thicker with apprehension the closer they drew to headquarters.

When they hit a well sealed door under what their maps indicated was headquarters, even Desh grew morose. He halted in front of the barrier, quietly studying it. Paz kept her mouth shut, too, aware this was the end of the road for their joint (and admittedly easy) trip.

In the dark she watched him set a palm on cold, clearly ancient metal. She’d have thought he’d forgotten her the way he looked it over, head tilting as if he could see past the bedrock and right up into headquarters. Something about his stillness made her anxious, the weight of their task suddenly falling on her. What if…what if Coram wasn’t even here? What if he was dead? What if she—no, she’d figure shit out, but what if Desh couldn’t steal a ship or make it in time? What if they were caught? How long did she need to hold others off? What if her rifle stopped working?

Tch, why hadn’t she thought of any of this on the way here?

“There may be things in there,” he carefully, although abruptly, informed her, words barely audible. “Things you…may not want to know about, or see. If that’s the case you gotta keep going, okay? Don’t stop. Don’t stop for anything that isn’t, you know…”

What the fuck did that mean? Paz’s stomach seized in worry. She tentatively eyed the door, wondering what might lay beyond. What had she just gotten herself into?

“What do you…?”

Desh shook his head, stepping back and reaching into his pockets. “Just…don’t worry about anything that isn’t him.” Producing the stone rod, he held it out for her. “Here. You take it.”

Paz squinted at the stick. No way. She’d avoided touching that for a reason and also, she was already carrying a lot of shit. Actually—

Removing her backpack, she traded him for the stick. If he had the higher chance of leaving he might as well keep their valuables, although the stick…well, she’d have to make sure she got out, didn’t she?

At least he smirked before pressing it into her palm. Like before the stone hummed for her, a thrum of energy pulling through her veins just beneath the surface. It took every ounce of strength not to shudder, and she grudgingly took and pocketed it along with her knife before it could do more than hum.

“I guess this is it,” she murmured, pacing to determine how to best blow open the door (because there wasn’t going to be another way in). Anything could lay beyond. _Why_ had she volunteered to do this, again? Was Coram really worth it?

“You got this,” Desh assured, using the same words she so often went for in previous dire situations. “Let me know if you get stuck. I’ll help however I can.”

She’d say the same for him but they both knew she’d be of little use. Shaking her limbs loose, she offered a curt nod instead. “Okay. Okay, ye, we got this.”

“I should be finished and ready in an hour or so,” he continued, having already estimated how long it’d take to reach the docks and steal something stealthy. He’d estimated the hour but she bet it’d be longer. Therefore, she needed to take her time. Now was not the time to go in, guns blazing, wrecking everything in sight. No, she was going to be quiet and careful.

And…if she couldn’t find the captain…Desh said he’d still come but she had doubts about that. Still, she wasn’t going to consider that, not yet.

“You got this,” he reiterated, apparently aware of her doubts. Distracted, Paz glanced over to him. He was already backing up, ready to run. Ready to start. Fuck, why was _she_ nervous?

“Ye,” she reluctantly whispered, forcing herself to believe it. “Ye, we go this.”

“I’ll get there,” he added, boots scuffing on the rock and echoing around them. “No matter what, I’ll come back.”

“I’ll—.” She had to swallow first, throat suddenly dry. “I’ll do everything I can.”

“Keep on track,” he reminded, turning. “Don’t worry about anything but him.”

Man, every time he said that she grew more anxious. But he was already off and running, forcing Paz to utter a hushed ‘good luck’ before returning her focus on the door.

Damn. It was huge and there was no external handle or panel from what she could determine. But, both maps had said this was directly under the Nav. She could keep searching down here but a door was a door. She might as well try it. Without Desh as her sounding board Paz grumbled a bit before moseying back to the adjacent wall, well aware she’d need a brace. Like before she aimed for one lower corner, sure it’d eat a hole large enough for her to crawl through and…hopefully kill anything that might lay beyond.

She had time so the didn’t pull the trigger, not yet. No, instead she checked to make sure her shield was up, took several deep breaths—oh, and organized her comm’s playlists. If she was going to do this well then she needed a proper soundtrack.

While she was at it she checked the maps again, just in case she needed to escape via tunnels. Ye, Desh said it wouldn’t work but there was a possibility she might not even step inside. Therefore, she wanted to at least know which way to take off should Nav officers pour out once she took her shot. Head right, take one artery for a kilometer or two, then left at a fork, then—

A ping came through, not from Desh (or Rahm), which was…weird. Going still, Paz let it beep in her periphery. Who…who knew her comm? No one she knew, but she opened it regardless. There was time and she’d rather not see it blinking there for the rest of the night.

_Practice caution, Kamul_.

Kamul? Oh, _shit_. Who…someone actually knew the person this comm came from? _How_? And—fuck, why were they making contact now? She had other things to focus on! She shoved it away, trying to pretend she hadn’t just received something super startling. Nah, no way. There was no time to think about anything but the guy who was going to return her to Val and answer some damn questions. She’d figure the rest out later, when she could breathe, and when there wasn’t a giant, ominous door looming in front of her.

Okay, okay. She steadied her aim, hands clutching Guinto’s rifle tight. Whatever happened, happened. One, two, three…

It was as loud as ever, and the plasma round near blinded her for a second, too. Paz hit the crude wall, though not as badly this time, gritting her teeth and squinting into a sheen of dust and smoke. Her ears rang, which was nothing new, either. Man, she needed to learn how to properly use this thing.

Another ping pushed through, a regular one: Desh asking if that was her. She didn’t appreciate he’d heard it from wherever he was, if only because it meant the Nav definitely could, too. Knowing this she scooted away and held in her coughs.

_Ye, that was me. Nothing so far_.

_Good. Take it easy. Steady, kid_.

Ugh, _kid_. She was no such thing. Psycho-monkey; that’s what she was tonight. Well, a more subdued version, but still.

She waited, and waited. When the dust finally cleared she found herself peering at a misshapen hole cutting clean through what looked like a meter of thick metal and parts of the bedrock. No one emerged—the door never hissed off its hidden hinges. No shouts or alarms. Just…silence. And a looming darkness. Had she been that lucky?

Apparently. Slowly, she crept to the entrance and crouched at its side, cautiously peeking in. There was nothing. Just…empty space. Like the Nav had forgotten about this, too. Holding her shield in place just in case, she shifted until she was on her belly, then slid past the barrier, hands groping on dusty but solid ground once the damage was cleared. Paz’s heart raced, her whole body going cold as she emerged into tomb-like silence.

From what she could see it was just a small hallway or den (she _really_ hoped it led somewhere). Strapping the rifle to her back for now, she made a slow crawl forward. Things were still quiet and she felt no vibrations on the smooth, if dingy, ground. The Nav had truly forgotten about this, hadn’t they? Were they really that stupid?

Or was it a trap? No way to tell besides to keep going. Putting on her playlist, Paz made herself move.

The area was indeed a hallway, and it turned to the right about twenty meters down. She followed it, twisting and turning wherever it went. There was never an elevation gain though she did hit several more doors. The first was unlocked and easy enough to nudge through with some force, as were the second and third. She quickly lost track of how far she’d gone, beginning to think this was a trick entrance until she encountered a door that was definitely secure. It wouldn’t budge no matter how she approached it, and when she finally rose to her feet and felt up its surface she found what seemed like a panel similar to those she’d seen in Alpha.

Damn. Well, she was likely at the Nav’s backdoor. Aside from blasting it open however she was stuck, and she loved blasting shit open but…she probably wouldn’t get lucky twice. Someone would _probably_ notice this kind of entrance destruction.

Wait. She’d seen someone expertly work one of those panels, and recently.

Back on her comm she pinged Desh, informing him of the new barrier. He praised her for a job well done (she’d _never_ forget such flattery from the likes of him), informed her he was a kilometer out from the docks, and hadn’t run into anyone other than a few hoodlums thus far. Satisfied with one another’s condition, he asked her to describe the panel. She did, probably not very well, but he understood regardless and laid out her options—blast it open, or wake the panel and trust him to give proper instructions that’d satisfy security and get the damn thing open.

_Your shield in place_?

At the panel, Paz prepared herself. She…she trusted him. She never thought she would but she currently did. _Ye. Walk me through it_.

Less than two meters away on the other side there were two Nav employees lounging at a card table, chatting amongst themselves on break. They were about as relaxed as could be, this particular break room the only one in the lower levels yet somehow a sad looking thing with mismatched furnishings and a couple potted plants that’d seen better days. Thus, it was quite a surprise when the never-used, never-even-addressed emergency exit (honestly, it looked more painted on than real) in one corner beeped, gurgled, and then slid open with a hiss.

“What the fuck!” one of them bleated, falling out his chair and rounding to check it out as quickly as he could. “That—has that—I didn’t even know it opened.”

“Uh, should it?” their partner inquired, eyes wide behind thick glasses. She’d stayed behind, but due to his bravery she at least crept from her chair and they cautiously closed in on the gaping entrance. They both wore white lab coats and bore no weapons.

“What…why’d it open?” the first one asked, all kinds of confused.

“Maybe a malfunction?” the other suggested, frowning and scratching at her scalp. She hid behind her partner, arms clutching around one of his. “Jax, I’m telling you…first the grinder, now this? This place is fucking haunted.”

He snorted but didn’t dismiss the notion, attention glued to the door. There was no one on the other side. Just an…empty hall. He inched closer, as intrigued as his partner was scared. She let him go, rooted behind one of the other janky tables.

“Careful. Oh my gods, Jax…don’t…we should tell Harpinder.”

“Tch, like she’d do anything.” He was at the entrance now, marveling at the door just a second before his nose crinkled and he gagged. “Blegh. It smells _bad_.”

“Ah, all the more reason to shut it and tell her,” the other reasoned, sweating in panic. She was so busy staring at her partner’s back she barely noticed the odd jostling at her hip, but she did notice a little, shrieking as she jerked sideways, tumbling to the floor. Jax whipped around, then laughed.

“Come on, Kami—there’s nothing going on, ye? It’s nothing.”

His partner wasn’t convinced, eyes wildly darting around, tears lining the lower lids. “I—Jax, I felt something.”

Paz bet she did. With the girl’s clearance card safely tucked in a pocket she tiptoed away, holding in the urge to apologize. She hadn’t expected scientists or…whatever these two were, but it was better than coming in hot and murdering all witnesses. Least this way, unless the guy actually did investigate, they’d hopefully chalk it up to some sort of weird defect. Or, apparently, the place being haunted. That was fine.

Deeming herself far enough away she turned tail and disappeared around a corner into a new, blessedly empty but incredibly generic corridor. On her way she sent another ‘thank-you’ to Desh, already shaking with relief and fear.

She’d made it inside. _She_ was in the Nav’s home.

_Look for stairs_ , Desh advised, which was obvious. Paz did anyway, simultaneously wary for other employees. The deeper she moved the more she realized this was…some kind of lab, or medical area. Anyone she did quietly pass was outfitted in one of those white coats, none of them appearing threatening in the slightest.

Huh. She hadn’t been expecting nerds, but okay.

_Find stairs_?

Helpful as he was, Desh was still annoying.

_Not yet_ , she shot back, scanning each panel of every wall she slinked past. Everything was so generic, near exactly like Alpha’s headquarters minus some updated propaganda. They even had those weird canisters every hundred meters or so, though she still had no idea what they were, too busy looking for a sign for stairs. Heading up was the most important thing. Unless Coram was down here, but those stupid Hylerian senses weren’t picking up on anything. He had to be higher up.

Unless they’d moved him. She really hoped they hadn’t.

So, labs were in the bottom of Nav headquarters, wherever she’d ended up. She fed this info to Desh and in turn he told her he was working on opening a hatch that should put him _in_ the docks or very close. Great. Man, he’d gotten there fast. Was she taking too long? No, no; slow and steady. She could do this. She’d made it happen, so she’d better follow through.

Stairs!

A door on her left had a giant sign indicating steps. Paz veered to it, not even bothering to look behind her as she swiped the clearance card and pushed inside a brightly lit stairwell. It was stark as hell but she hadn’t expected anything else. She climbed grated steps two at a time, winding up tight landing after landing, always on the lookout for anyone who might appear threatening. Only lab nerds. So completely opposite from what she’d been expecting. She dodged where she could, slowing down the second she realized her panting was noticeable.

Two levels up she still felt nothing, but the staircase ended so she slipped out with some researcher or whatever, acting as his shadow while they moved into a new, nicer looking hallway. To their left doors lined the wall, and to their right large, sprawling windows tinged a deep shade of blue. Walking past the windows Paz caught sight of giant tanks on the other side, which immediately reminded her of Alpha.

Intrigued, she abandoned her target and wandered to the windows, a minor aberration in their coloring. They had tanks here, too? Was this like the same exact layout as Alpha? Were the Nav _that_ unoriginal? There were rows and rows of—

Paz bit her lip, focusing on the tanks nearest her position. She paused her playlist, eyes keenly taking in the containers. Something inside looked…weird. Her skin crawled, though she had no idea why. What was inside?

She couldn’t properly tell from outside so she trotted a littler further down the hall to a secured entry point. Once again the clearance card was swiped and she slipped in just as a few whitecoats turned their heads, puzzled, but not inquisitive.

The second she set foot inside the massive room she knew she’d made a mistake.


	43. Ch 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, the Nav's just a little infatuated with Paz's people, definitely not going to bite them in the ass in the future.

There were people inside those tanks.

Backing up, Paz found a wall to sink against, unable to take watering eyes off the nearest row of immaculate tanks. It was almost exactly like the vault in Alpha, with hundreds of them in row upon row. The only difference here was they weren’t in cryo. Oh, no, each tank held viscous fluid, and…and the bodies inside were attached to an endless supply of tubes, all darting away to the tops. Hylerian bodies. Those were…people like her, in each tank, all of them gently bobbing, dead for all intents and purposes but clearly alive given overhead monitors reading stats that had no meaning to her.

Was it…was it all like this? She couldn’t convince herself to get up and check—she’d already hit the floor on her ass, rifle clattering behind her and making more heads turn.

She was going to be sick. She couldn’t—couldn’t breathe, look away, or do literally anything besides gawk like the idiot she apparently was.

What the fuck was this?

Hylerian males, females, children…all were here, all ages, just from what she could take in. And the whitecoats milling between rows just kept doing their thing, checking stats, measuring things they pulled from the sides of the tanks and—

Fuck. No, she was going to be sick. Really sick. She couldn’t even see straight any longer, the room spinning while gravity’s weight pressed down. Both hands grabbed onto the floor and she forced her eyes shut, willing control. This couldn’t—it wasn’t happening. She wasn’t seeing this right.

_I’m in_ , Desh pinged, though it meant little to her. _Gonna start scouting. You find stairs_?

Why where there so many?

_Paz_?

Did they know about this, Coram and his crew? What _was_ it?

_Paz, you good_?

No, no she was not. It took all her concentration to lurch onto her feet, not bothering to be quiet. She pushed back to the entry and shakily swiped out, brushing shoulders with a whitecoat who paused but didn’t turn around. She had to…had to…

How she crossed the hall and stumbled through another door she didn’t remember, but after checking to ensure she was alone, she collapsed on the ground once more and struggled to take in breaths between nauseous heaves. Why was this so difficult? _Why_ had she decided to come here? If they caught her was that where she’d go? Was—fuck, was Coram already in there? Could she just not tell? Goddamnit, she couldn’t—could _not_ go back in there, but how else would she know?

_Paz…please tell me you’re good_.

Damnit, _and_ she was crying? _Why_? Rolling over and curling up, she tried squashing whatever these bubbling emotions were. There wasn’t time to worry about anything beyond leaving.

Yet…

There were Hylerians in Nav headquarters, in tanks, being used for who knew what. Like…what the fuck was she supposed to make of that?

_Paz, check in_.

Settling on her back, Paz fluttered her eyelashes and focused on bland, boring ceiling panels. _There are Hylerians in here. In tanks._ When there came no immediate response she knew he’d been aware of them so she added, _Why_?

Several minutes passed, each one agonizing. Paz let her thoughts wander to all sorts of dark places, suddenly very scared her shield would go down at any moment and she might…might not be able to fight all these whitecoats, not if they came at her at once. She would go in a tank, wouldn’t she? This was where things would end. Fuck Coram—this had been such a horrible idea and Desh had _known_.

They’d all known. Had…had Val?

Holy fuck, she’d had a long day. This was all _way_ too much to process.

_It’s a long story_ , Desh finally pinged back. _Very long, and I can’t explain it well. They need us, they extract something, I don’t know what, but it’s necessary and they’ve been doing it long as they’ve known of us. I’m sorry you saw it. I didn’t know where it was, exactly. Honestly they might even have others, but now we know. I’m sorry. Paz, you need to keep going, okay? Get through there as fast as you can. Please._

She lay there instead, still staring at the ceiling. Bursts of rage and fear burned through her, and Paz truly wasn’t sure what she’d do if she rose right now. She wanted…wanted to trash the vault, wanted to murder every single whitecoat in there and free all the Hylerians. She wanted blood painting the walls, wanted splintered bones and spilled guts, but…she wanted to hide just as much. This was not a good place to be sneaking around in, and who were those poor souls across the hall? Were they people the others knew? Or total strangers? How long had they been here?

_Paz, you need to keep going_.

Ye, ye, she’d heard. It took a couple tries but she dizzily returned to her ass, blearily taking in her surroundings. Another lab complete with all sorts of machines, their humming finally making its way to her still buzzing ears. Whatever this was, whatever she’d stumbled upon and whatever the Nav was doing, she wanted to badly take them to task for it. She didn’t know why she cared, or how she’d even do such a thing, but every fiber of her being demanded punishment.

And it hit her as she took a good, cleansing breath, that she now understood why Coram did what he did. It didn’t make it right, but she wasn’t necessarily concerned with ‘right’ in this matter. They’d probably do the same to her if they ever got their claws in her. Nothing else indicated otherwise.

_Why didn’t you tell me?_ she demanded, quivering legs managing to stand her up. She had to go back into the vault, had to make sure Coram wasn’t in there.

_You didn’t want to know_ , Desh answered, and even though she couldn’t currently hear him, she knew the tone he was using. After a second he also sent, _And this is something we don’t want to discuss. Because there’s nothing we can do_.

_Uh, well, now you know where it is. Go ahead and wreck shit._

_And kill them while we’re at it_?

Oh. She started to argue about just waging war but that was stupid and, unfortunately, what they were already doing, she now realized. They were outnumbered by the billions _and_ they were warring against the _Nav_ , the Federation’s dogs.

And literally, until a couple minutes ago she’d been of the same mind-frame as anyone else in the Federation—Hylerians were picking a stupid fight they could not, and didn’t deserve, to win.

No one was going to help them because they looked like the bad guys.

_I’m going_ , she announced to Desh. _Back in there, just to check if he’s there. Then—then I’ll move on_.

She could feel the relief in his answering ping. _Be careful. I’m looking for a rig now. Take your time_.

_I will_.

_Don’t look at anything you don’t have to_.

Annoying as he was, at least he was being kind. Paz didn’t intend on doing that but she promised she would, braced herself, and then headed back into the hall. If anyone thought numerous opening doors was weird then they didn’t show it.

And since she had no one to back her up, she grabbed the stupid stick from her pocket, holding it tight for comfort as she pushed back into that abomination of a vault. She didn’t know why but it helped.

Inside it was just as heart-stopping as before, and she could yell at herself all she wanted for being a coward but…she was scared. Upset, scared, and terrified this might happen to her. She tempted fate just by being there, all of her survival resting on a flimsy illusion she’d hastily cooked up in a couple hours.

For the first dozen meters she simply kept her distance from whitecoats, avoiding the tanks entirely and anything that might fall if she were to come close. At the same time she did her best to regulate her nerves, trying to summon back her usual demeanor.

_Do this for him. Just one last thing. You can do this_.

Ugh, she shouldn’t have been compelled to do this in the first place. Careful where she stepped in the vault’s aisles, she veered down the first empty row, bitter about her own decisions. It was frustrating at best, this stupid need to pull Coram out of here. He deserved it. He’d done wrong, trying to play as a god.

But did she want him in some tank having something taken from him, being violated for no discernible reason? Casting apprehensive looks up at the tanks surrounding her, Paz sort of thought death was a better option. Desh kept telling her to take it slow, reminding her not to fuck with anything that wasn’t the goal. The fact he was almost incessant about it indicated he knew how she currently felt.

She really wanted a massacre of whitecoats and all these goddamned tanks in pieces, the people inside be damned. None of them looked well, she unhappily noted, stomach churning at the sight of atrophied, twisted limbs and gnarled joints. Hardly any color clung to their flesh, and as she moved deeper she realized these Hylerians were not strong, not like her or Desh or anyone on the Lakai. They’d been…whatever this was, they were only being kept alive at the bare minimum. They definitely wouldn’t survive outside their prisons, let alone stand, not even the healthiest of them.

Forcing herself to dissociate before another meltdown came on, she began to only flit her eyes up a moment or two at every tank, only long enough to determine if Coram was unlucky enough to be inside. He wasn’t so far as she could tell, and as she staggered down the rows she began to see what the whitecoats were doing. They were monitoring the tanks, keeping them viable for whatever this extraction business was. To the whitecoats this was their job. They joked and chatted about their personal lives while they worked around her. To them this was normal.

She wished she felt the same, honestly. She hated feeling _anything_ about them.

Why did she care? This…this had nothing to do with her, wasn’t something she was involved in. She wasn’t the one fighting with the Nav—this wasn’t her business. And yet…

And yet, no matter how many times Desh told her to focus she hardly could. It just didn’t seem right, being here while these people stewed in that awful blue liquid that’d probably freeze the second someone wanted them in cryo. Fuck, she was going to be sick.

No, no, not here. It couldn’t happen here. Ducking between rows she slid past two large tanks, clutching at her chest and _willing_ herself not to puke. She’d never stopped grabbing the stone, allowing its humming, comforting presence to seep into her skin, now at her chest. Something about it helped, keeping her from truly melting down. At this point it was the only thing that could, if only because otherwise she’d have already acted out her ideas of destruction.

_Keep going_ , she reminded herself just as Desh did, stepping out once more and weaving amongst the rows. No sign of Coram, none at all. Was this the final stage or something? Maybe he was further in the facility, but she hadn’t…hadn’t felt his presence anywhere. Not even a little.

She studied way too many comatose, useless Hylerians, of all ages and sexes, but none of them were what her own senses searched for, no matter how upsetting it was to see them. She whizzed back and forth, up and down rows and aisles. Some whitecoats she saw several times checking on their wards, others only once. In the back, far from the windows, there were less containers yet somehow the majority of them contained healthier Hylerians. Mostly female, she uncomfortably realized, and the majority of those females were…in various stages of gestation.

Oh, no.

No, no, no, no; this was _not_ okay.

_Who better to spread your legs for_?

Desh had snarled those exact words earlier in the day. She hadn’t—she’d thought he was being a dick like usual. But…no, he’d known what the Nav did. He knew what any of them faced should they be incorporated into this business, what _she’d_ probably face. And if she ever was, she’d likely…likely never even know.

Holy fuck, it was a miracle she didn’t slit the throat of a nearby whitecoat. Desh, unfortunately, was right. She was only one person in the enemy’s camp. She couldn’t fix this, couldn’t change anything. She knew someone who’d been working on that though, and so it suddenly became that much more important to break him out. Someone who’d take the Nav to task in the only way he could. Even if she couldn’t do anything, she wanted—no, _needed_ someone else to keep trying. This was sick, wrong, and holy fuck she was never coming near the Nav ever again, not after this.

_Justice_. Ye, that’s what she desired. Justice, and vengeance, and the blood of those who thought people like her weren’t worth their humanity. That stupid stone was held tighter, strengthening her resolve. Strengthening…

Everything.

She kept searching, kept looking for that familiar, _worthy_ face, but he wasn’t in the vault. Paz continued working through the rows regardless, letting her own people fuel the rage boiling from her core. Someone was going to have to pay for this.

Maybe not today, but one day. One day this would be corrected.


	44. Ch 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like a pissed off Paz ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Theme for the most part: "Grrrl Like", Dope Saint Jude

A sharp, stabbing ache wouldn’t leave him alone. Coram had tried shifting, tried ignoring it, tried everything he could think of, but that piercing pain kept cracking up his neck and through his brain every couple seconds like clockwork. It could be worse, he’d somehow reasoned. He’d been out for a while, the reprieve a blessing, but even in a comatose state he’d succumbed to the pulsing, and it was driving him nuts.

He’d really rather die but no, this was punishment, and they’d drag it out as long as they could. It had to have been a day by now, at least one. He wasn’t entirely sure, his comm essentially dead and there were no clocks or the like in the tiny cell they’d put him in. Tied up to the bolted-down chair they’d left him in long ago, he silently recounted the steps that’d landed him here.

All of it started because that dickbag Rahm couldn’t deal with their petty issues. Well, he probably could’ve had a certain _creative_ person kept her mouth shut but no, Paz practically told the whole colony who she was, and that’d been the catalyst. He should’ve known better, but he’d been just as stupid, thinking…well, thinking it’d be easy to keep her out of their internal affairs. Just skirt by Beta because it was close and a good place to regroup, let her see the colony since she’d probably have a fit if they didn’t, then get the hell out of here.

So that’d been his mistake, assuming the best out of Rahm and assuming things would go according to plan. But then he’d…dropped his guard, let himself be so, _so_ stupid, exposing himself when he knew his mods were struggling in the first place. Somehow, he’d forgotten about those that morning, consumed by something else. When Rahm asked him to meet and look into a viable option that’d send them straight into the docks he’d gone without a second thought. Beta was harmless enough so long as one minded their own business.

He’d been so fucking stupid, unable to see the trap right in front of him.

But it was better he was here than anyone else. He’d happily die before that happened. His crew was never coming here if he could help it. Desh would…he’d transition into the captain’s role, eventually. Even if he hated it, he’d learn to accept it. They’d be fine.

That ache worsened, picking up speed. Coram let his head slide back, skull banging against the chair. At least it was a different pain.

Rahm had sent him to a warehouse owned by the Nav. He’d been so wrapped up in what’d happened, so distracted that he’d forgotten his usual precautions and it was his own damn fault. He’d _let_ his feelings get in the way. One of the few hard rules he had and he’d fucking broken it the first chance he had.

At any rate, the Nav’s local authorities were only too delighted to see him stumbling into one of their own practice yards, then attempting to back out like it’d been a dare (Rahm had said it was an abandoned office with a backdoor into the docks, which he supposed might’ve been true; he’d just been too dumb to notice). His mods had failed, and no one either noticed on his way there or cared to inform him. By then it was too late. Some hulking officer had him on the ground, cuffing him like he was a rookie.

And now he was here, in…jail, he presumed, probably in Nav headquarters. He’d been knocked out when they brought him inside, which was for the best in the Nav’s case, because he would’ve truly had a fit. Ten officers in varying rounds beating up a weaponless Hylerian did him in, his comm likely kicked in the process given how much his head and neck throbbed, so that was just…great.

They’d interrogated him when he’d come to, in this very room. A whole team of officers led by someone he didn’t want to think about right now because it was too much. It’d gone on for what felt like forever and he was pretty sure he looked worse now than when he’d come in. He still tasted blood from the last administered beating.

They could do this all day: the bellowing, the beating, threatening… It wouldn’t change anything. His comm was dead (their fault) and it wasn’t like he was going to give them any information about Lakai, not about the others, and certainly not about the attack on Alpha. They’d been _really_ interested in that, and as much of a backstabber as Rahm was, even he knew not to link them with that incident.

So, Coram would either give flippant insults or, more often than not, nothing. There was no reason to, and they hadn’t resorted to worse tactics yet. He still had time to consider how he might kill himself before they made it that far.

He knew what they’d do once it came to that point. _That_ was what he had to avoid. If it came down to it the Nav would win their fucking prize and he would literally, definitely die before they initiated the end. Fuck the Nav. They might’ve captured him but they were _not_ taking what they wanted.

Yet if it _did_ happen, at least he’d be out of this particular, miserable hell. Every bit of him was bruised and sore, and that ache was not going away. A part of him wondered if his comm’s internal workings had bled out. Maybe it was already hemorrhaging (it’d explain the pulsing). If so, great. The Nav would _love_ that.

Unfortunately, the pounding behind his ear grew worse when some sort of alarm blared overhead. Or from beyond the door. He couldn’t tell. It was loud and annoying as hell though, of that he was sure. In a daze, Coram brought his head forward to blink half-swollen eyes at the entrance. No one busted in, but if they did he’d complain about the noise. That had to count as cruel and unusual punishment.

Least it was just him. Least they hadn’t nabbed Desh, so far as he knew, or…Paz. Rahm wouldn’t sell her out, not to the Nav. He knew where she’d end up, which was…horrifying, but better than the alternative of being here. He wished…wished things had been different. Wished he hadn’t fucked up on such a grand scale. Really, he’d begun fucking up the first time he met Paz, sleeping with her like it’d somehow help. He shouldn’t have even spoken to her. Should’ve just grabbed her, socked her away for a couple months, maybe until her warrants and bounties exceeded limitations, but that was just as awful. Tell her the truth? Possibly even worse, but at least…she would’ve known. Fuck, he’d screwed everything up. So badly.

The alarm didn’t stop. He contemplated banging his head on the chair until everything did end but there were a few more things he could self-flagellate over, and this sort of capture was not complete without selfish wallowing. He took a deep breath instead, that stabbing pain now a near blinding sensation. Gods, he wanted to die. Please, _please_ let this be it. It’d be a fitting end for fucking everything so thoroughly. _He_ was such a fuck-up, couldn’t even carry out the promises he’d—

The door’s partition dinged, barely audible under the alarm, and jiggered open. Painfully rolling his eyes, Coram managed a sneer. His current least favorite person in the world took up the entire frame, and he didn’t appear very pleased about the noise, either.

“Think your system’s busted,” Coram remarked, mentally cringing. Ugh, even his voice was bruised.

Without a word of their own, the other man stepped inside, glowering at his target. He was huge, taller than Coram and larger than Rahm but in the muscular sense. Sharp features carved out his rugged, tan face minus that tell-tale flat nose, and predatory tawny eyes were currently fixed on Coram. While the partition slowly slid shut behind him, he huffed in contempt and ran a hand through immaculately shorn, silvery beige hair.

Coram exhaled just as heavily, incredibly unimpressed at this point. He hadn’t been impressed the first time, either. More like, disgusted in his very soul, but not surprised. He—

His stomach tensed. Something wasn’t right.

“Planning on having visitors?” they asked, their voice booming out over the alarms. It did hurt, but Coram was too distracted to care. This wasn’t—gods, why was his head so fucked up?

“We’ve been breached,” the man continued, sounding much more calm about it than Coram assumed he was. The man stepped in close, hands behind his back, leering at Coram with equal distaste. “Seems they came in from below. Clever, don’t you think?”

No, no he did not think that was clever. That was a death sentence. Settling his brow into a frown, Coram glared down at the floor. He had nothing to say to this guy, nothing civil anyway.

Which was why he chose to spit, “Know what I’ve noticed, Noc? You really like to hear yourself talk.”

The other man angled his head, weighing the truth in that before shrugging. “I do. But it changes nothing. No one else would be stupid enough to try and come here, so we can only presume you have a rescue party headed your way. Therefore, I think I’ll stay here, with you. I’d like to meet your crew. You know, see who the infamous Halverson’s hanging out with.”

Shutting his eyes a moment, Coram carefully shook his blistering head. Something…something didn’t feel right, but it was familiar, and close, and he couldn’t explain it but he wanted to yell at it, scare it away. His shoulders strained behind him, futilely working against too tight ropes.

“Man, no one’s coming,” he grumbled. “No one’s stupid enough to—are you really gonna let the alarm go?”

Noc smirked. His own very muscular arms crossed a broad chest. “If it bothers you, ye. I’d bargain with you, but I rather enjoy watching you suffer.”

And he probably would’ve gone on but the door slid open behind him, revealing an empty hallway. Noc swiveled on a heel, back to Coram as he scanned the entrance. He must’ve been suspicious because he stalked outside into the hall, barking for people Coram couldn’t see. He could barely concentrate, his chest fluttering with unwarranted anxiety, that familiarity coming closer. He found himself shaking his head, breaths coming in quick gasps as his heart pounded in time with the pain. Gods, _why_ couldn’t they turn off the alarm?

“Don’t tell me you’re already giving up,” Noc teased, moseying back to Coram, his calm demeanor having returned. “The great Coram Halverson, folding after just a couple days in our care. So much for that preternatural strength, ye?”

“Says the bitch who copped out,” Coram retorted in a slur, spitting blood on the floor while he was at it. “You know how we are—you know it’d be a different story if it were fair.”

“Which is why this isn’t fair,” Noc easily crooned, practically beaming. “Why _you’re_ here, and why you won’t be the last. You’re—”

Somehow, some way, the left side of Noc’s face smashed in and he, the hulkiest of hulks, flew across the tiny cell to careen into its metal, unyielding panels. He crumpled to the ground in a heap while Coram gaped. He’d—well, he wasn’t exactly _sad_ to see Noc down but the door was shut and they were alone. They’d—

Hands ( _real_ hands) grabbed just above his wrists and he somehow stifled the scream that’d been working up his throat. What the fuck was happening? He hadn’t—was this even real? The grip was tight, too. Then something cool slid between his wrists, something smooth and metallic.

His heart stopped, ears roaring louder than the alarms. Coram could barely move, let alone think beyond the fear pouring out his core. He knew. He understood what it was and it couldn’t be happening.

“No.” He knew he was whispering it even if he couldn’t hear it, head shaking more vigorously, neck lighting up in fiery torment. “No, no. _Get out_.”

The grip on his forearms squeezed even tighter. He wanted to thrash but the sensation of breath on his ear kept him still.

Yet…they didn’t say anything, didn’t give him any indication who they were. He still knew and it made him want to sink into the ground. She couldn’t be here.

She couldn’t.

X

Paz wasn’t exactly concerned with leaving at the moment. Oh no, she was a little more concerned about the giant Hylerian sprawled on the floor like three meters away and the fact her knife wasn’t cutting through the ropes binding Coram up as fast as she would like. His goons she’d taken out pretty easily, dragging three sentries who’d followed this guy here down the hall and around a corner, but this guy…even a goddamn rifle to the head hadn’t knocked him out. No, he was already reaching for the wall, attempting to right himself.

She would’ve shot him dead but that’d make noise and…okay, she’d honestly thought the hit would’ve at least knocked him out. Since it didn’t, she sawed faster.

An angry voice inside told her to do it anyway, shoot and be done with the other guy, but he was Hylerian. She didn’t— _why_ was there a Hylerian taunting Coram ten stories up from the labs?

She’d found him. Found him after too many steps and avoiding increasingly more threatening looking Nav employees. Each level she’d scoured the entire floor, always searching for Coram and lo and behold, here he was in a goddamned closet of sorts just _doors_ down from what appeared to be commanding offices.

After what she’d witnessed downstairs she wanted to completely trash their offices, but…she’d felt him and he was more important at the moment. Just barely.

And now he was telling her to get out? Tch, as if. There was no way she was going anywhere without him. Besides, she’d just told Desh she’d found him so she couldn’t, you know, back out now. That lethal calm hadn’t happened yet, either, but it would. She prayed it would, anyway. What, had clearing the floor first been a bad idea? It couldn’t. It’d been Desh’s idea and he hadn’t offered any bad ideas yet.

She actually wanted to hug him for helping her through this despite being busy with his own search for a ship to commandeer.

No time to think about that, not now. The rope was too substantial and she swore under her breath, glancing over at the hulk. Fuck, he was up. Reeling, but up. _Fuck_.

“Go,” Coram shouted, struggling in the ropes but never trying to look for her. “You gotta go!”

Oh, it was almost cute how he was trying to boss her around. She had half a mind to slap him but—damn, he already looked awful. How many people beat him up? Just this dude? More? Some of the guys she’d so kindly left alive on her way up here despite the fact she’d seen their hideously evil operation in the basement?

She’d work around him to do a more thorough exam but the other Hylerian was stomping closer, filling up the tiny room with his presence and forcing her to shirk away. The knife had to come with—she was _not_ letting him have it.

Paz sank back to the nearest wall, quickly slinking right and for the the exit. Her shield wasn’t the best but if she stayed nimble he’d hopefully mistake her blurry form for an aberration on the wall. The alarm they put on was super, _super_ annoying as well, but it served as a distraction, and combined with Coram’s suddenly animated thrashing she hoped it’d be enough to keep the other guy at bay.

It wasn’t. He could sense her (damn senses!) and he carefully prowled after her in rapid steps that made the floor quiver, just like her already tired legs. Damn, he was way too fast for his size.

She zipped out of reach, stealth forgotten, playing the worst game of keep-away circling around Coram’s chair. He yelled at her to leave but really, she probably couldn’t even do that unless she blew open the door and that’d take time. Also, there was a huge guy on her heels at the moment. She couldn’t do this forever, but neither could he.

Knife between her teeth, she hefted the rifle like a bat, skidded to a halt and swiveled as she swung—hard.

It wasn’t as effective this time but the impact did make him stumble, long enough to put more than a couple meters between them. Paz didn’t care how productive it was; she flew right back to Coram and stabbed at the bindings. What kind of fucking rope was this!? Why was it so hard to remove? If he could slip free then she might have some backup, or at least someone to better distract the other Hylerian, because right now he had all his attention on her fleeting shadow and—fuck, she skittered away when he came in hot, swiping a meaty fist through the air she’d just occupied.

Every inch of her grew more jittery, suddenly aware of how outmatched she might be while stuck in a cramped box with this guy. Most people she could deal with; a Hylerian brute, however, might be another story.

“Very clever,” he commented between angry breaths, whipping around, eyes tracking her stumbling. “A little cowardly though, don’t you think?”

Tch, not really. This little trick of hers was the only reason she’d made it this far. Even Desh had told her multiple times to keep herself from being seen; it’d only work in her favor. Besides, Paz knew this guy was attempting to make her talk. Oh, she’d get there, don’t worry, but not yet. Instead she took the opportunity to aim while he wasn’t advancing, fingers already closing in on the trigger.

“No!” Coram gasped over the alarm. Even he was looking at her, like her shield had failed, like he knew exactly what she was about to do. Glancing down, Paz checked to ensure she was still hidden. She was, so—

The look cost her. In an instant she was knocked backward, clobbered by the other Hylerian. She hit the ground with a resounding thwack, air whooshing from her chest as the guy absolutely crushed down on her, her head banging hard on grating and rendering everything black.

At least the alarm dissipated, but for a moment there she’d plunged right back into the dark, endless void.

Goddamnit, could she do nothing without ending up here? Drifting down, she struggled to keep her eyes open, gaze lifting to search for that watery pinprick of light high above. It wasn’t…wasn’t there. Where was it? Weightless, she twisted in the inky darkness, where no light penetrated. Nothing; no Guinto telling her to keep going, no Desh…nothing at all. Well, if that was how it’d be then she supposed she could relax, allowing the darkness to creep in and envelope her in its very warm, heaving embrace.

_Face…_

_Your face._

_Your face!_

Her face? Oh, fuck—right, her face.

The void yanked out from beneath her and Paz slammed back into her body, coming to with a wheezing gasp. Both eyes popped open, somehow surprised to find the hulk’s own face just inches from her, his sparkling teeth too close for comfort. Tawny eyes darted all over, leading her to believe her illusion—fuck, it was failing if her comm’s warning peripherals were any indication.

Choking on that gasp she shoved on the Mother Virgo face, body tensing up beneath the immovable monster on top and doing her best to struggle free. He delighted in seeing someone finally materialize, roughly pushing up to straddle her waist. Try as she might, Paz couldn’t buck him. He was too heavy, thighs crushing her already unsteady innards, and those hands that’d never ceased contact were suddenly wrapping around her neck—tight.

“Hello dear,” he commented, appearing nightmarish as he loomed over her, grinning brightly while the room pulsed behind him. Paz automatically reached to claw at him but her nails could barely dig into his flesh. He laughed at her effort before continuing. “You’re the rescue party?”

Pinned to the floor, scarcely able to do more than scrabble at his forearms, Paz attempted stretching her neck. It didn’t work, and his grip only closed in. The Hylerian leaned closer, uttering another laugh that hit her in the face. Fuck, he was crushing her, everything threatening to break at any moment with just a little more force.

“Come now, let’s see your real face,” he demanded, breath hot and awful and as panicked as she was she wished she’d had the ability to spit at him. “I have no doubt you’re one of us. No one else would be stupid enough to come collect, ye?”

If she could manage she would’ve laughed but Paz couldn’t breathe, her throat currently squeezed shut. She could feel her skin growing hot, insides threatening to burst under pressure. She needed—needed air, needed space, needed this motherfucker _off_ her. Yet she was stuck, his weight too much, even for her. Try as she might she couldn’t throw him, or even budge him one way or the other.

Trapped, she bared her teeth and gurgled out a snarl. It was the best she could do.

“Noc,” Coram cut in from far, far away, his voice near blending with the alarm in her ears. Man, she’d almost forgotten he was there. “Noc! You can’t—you don’t want to do that. This is between us, ye?”

“Is it now,” the other Hylerian mused, gaze never leaving Paz’s twitching, weakening glare. “Hear that? He doesn’t need your help, little girl.”

_Little girl_? Oh, she’d show him what she was.

“He’s an idiot,” she gurgled through her teeth, willing to waste precious air and time on that. Noc blinked, studying her further, like he hadn’t realized she would sound like…well, herself.

“Noc,” Coram called, trying like hell to grab his attention. “Noc, look at me. You do _not_ want to hurt her.”

To his credit Noc did look. And smirk. “What, hurt this little girl?”

And then he slammed her head down on the ground.

The void came roaring back, but it wasn’t calm at all, not like previously. Paz spiraled through the darkness, hitting something solid and huge while it…rose at an alarming rate. Every speck of her quivered. She rolled to her stomach, blindly grabbing in the dark as she was pushed up.

And up.

And up.

She punched out as if she’d been chucked back into reality, using the momentum to rip Noc’s grip away and shove him up and off her. He crashed into the back of the room while she pushed to one knee, vision narrowing to a tunnel, homing in on her target. There was no thinking, no considerations. Fixated on the threat, Paz rose and shook herself off. Something burned at her chest, bright and alive and _angry_. She already knew what it was, having placed the stone rod in her bralette for safekeeping on the way up. Beyond the comfort it currently fed her, it steadied her feet and brought out a strength to her muscles she’d never known. Thrumming with that kind of enigmatic energy, she stalked the necessary steps to stand before Noc’s dazed figure, gaze roving him over like a piece of meat.

One hand smoothed over her bruised throat before she casually remarked, “Most people only call me that in bed.”

At least he snorted before lunging at her ankles. Paz kicked him in the face before those ugly fingertips even grazed her skin, slamming him right back into the wall with a satisfying crunch. She loved that, mostly because she’d never successfully kicked someone before, not like that.

“Let’s try this again,” she started, abandoning him to round to Coram’s back. While Noc coughed and spluttered she calmly dug her knife between Coram’s wrists, sawing with ease. Noc would be _dead_ if he dared try lunging for the rifle, its ominous bulk cast halfway across the room. “You stay there and maybe I won’t rip your fucking head off. Sound good?”

Dazed tawny eyes rested on her hip, then traveled to the thin slit of bruised, scarred skin crossing her abdomen. She wasn’t dumb enough to turn her back but she was near half-twisted in order to slice better. The bindings were giving now, loosening just a little and Coram, goddamn Coram was readying himself to spring.

“W-who are you?” Noc managed, shoulders tensing. Still sawing, Paz offered him her pretty smile. She didn’t care how it looked on Virgo’s face.

“Well,” she sighed, “about an hour ago I was pretty much nobody. But now that I’ve had a tour…I might just be your worst nightmare. Haven’t decided yet.”

It’d be so much more dramatic without the alarm but she’d make do. Paz maintained eye contact, daring Noc to ask more stupid questions. The stone was really burning now, heat cracking through her chest. She ignored it, consumed with an electric sense of rage just waiting to slip its leash, millennia of angst and fury on standby, needing out. She held it back—for now.

“Don’t,” Coram begged from ahead, breaking her lethal attention span. “Don’t.”

She knew what he was asking for. Paz’s venomous smile broadened and she paused in her cutting. “Oh, buddy—I don’t _care_ what he is. He’s still on the wrong side.” That same smile dropped into a menacing sneer, eyes widening while she glared at Noc. “Unless, you mean to tell me you have no idea about the fucking lab experiment going on in here.”

Noc had been about to drag himself to his feet but he paused, meeting her unwavering stare. Slowly, very slowly, he chuckled. “So you did take a tour, then. What’d you think?”

“I think you’re lucky your brain isn’t splattered on the wall.” There wasn’t a hint of sarcasm, of anything, really, in her snap. “I think you’re lucky I have things to do or else this’d be a much different meeting.”

“So high and mighty, aren’t you?” Noc remarked, pulling himself up via the wall. “Your captain give you the sob story? Did he tell you what monsters the Nav are?”

“First of all, he’s not my captain,” she primly corrected, dragging the knife hard against the rope. “Second, I wasn’t really a fan to begin with, but you’re not doing them any favors.”

_Are you ready_? she pinged Desh, having failed to keep him updated lately. It felt like as good a time as any to give him some information. _I’m almost there—working on Coram but now there’s this douchebag in our way_.

His reply was (thankfully) instant. _Working on tripping ship security. Just a little longer_.

Great. She’d need the time anyway. How far to the roof was anyone’s guess.

To Noc she added, “So, here’s the deal, bro— _you_ stay right there. I’m taking this guy and we’ll get out of your hair. I’d _like_ to burn the entire complex to the ground, but I won’t because I’m feeling generous. Therefore, the smart thing for you would be to let me do what I want.”

He was busy weighing his options, and calling for backup judging from his swiveling pupils. Paz uttered a haughty laugh, only too happy to drop her last surprise. “If you’re wondering why no one’s come up yet, well…they’re probably stuck.” Yes indeed she’d blasted her rifle at least once on the way up, wrecking a major stairwell a level below because she’d really rather not have an entire building of Nav officers after her. Desh, the motherfucking genius, had suggested doing so. But he hadn’t told her to smirk as she added, “Or dead, depending on the level. I really liked the decor downstairs, but—it needed some color.”

And, the deep color staining Noc’s face indicated she’d succeeded, at least when it came to slowing down reinforcements. His lip curled into a fantastic sneer, fists clenching at his side.

“You _bitch_.”

Paz gave a wink and a nod. “ _That’s_ what they call me outside the bedroom.”

And the second he threw himself at her she did the same, knife still in hand and slashing without mercy.

X

Coram roared as the sides of his palms screeched in pain, the blade catching before snapping through rope. While Paz met Noc head on with a stance and energy she _should not_ have he surged forward, ropes sliding off and pooling on the floor. He staggered away from the chair and for the door (really, it was the only way to go), desperately trying to wipe his hands off on his pants while he was at it. Currently he had no idea how this was going to play out but wet, slippery hands wouldn’t help.

Behind him Paz and Noc tumbled to the floor, grappling with one another with a ferocity only Hylerians could have. They wrestled back and forth, claws and fangs out, legs kicking. It was messy and difficult to determine who was winning, yet at the moment it didn’t matter. The two were releasing pent up energy that’d been biding it’s time for eons.

With his weight Noc threw Paz down on her back, attempting to overpower her like last time. It didn’t work, Paz’s teeth snapping at his closest arm and again somehow kicking him off. He slammed against metal panelling while she bore into him, hands around _his_ throat, nails successfully drawing blood this time. That pissed him off and he pushed back, sending Paz skidding across the gratings with a shriek, skin catching.

Injuries didn’t seem to matter to either, not when she jumped back to her feet and shouldered him in the gut as he shot for her. Both connected with the wall, panels bending over the combined weight. Keeping him close, Paz yanked him forward to throw him down on the ground but he took her with. The floor effectively bounced when they hit, their snarls competing over the alarm.

Having gaped the entire time, Coram snapped into action when a flash of skittering metal on the floor caught his attention. The rifle. It’d been long forgotten, the other Hylerians too involved in their own fight to try and grab it. Lunging around the two, Coram dropped close and snatched it up. Ignoring them, he backed up into a corner and examined it, dizzily trying to figure out where the hell to put his hands. He and Desh had looked it over multiple times but it’d been so awkward. If Paz had it he assumed she could work it, which meant he should be able to as well. Right?

Paz shrieked, bringing his attention back to the fight. On her knees against the other wall, she clutched one hand to her shoulder where blood now flowed, streaming down her shirt and left arm in thick rivulets. Uttering a nasty growl of delight, Noc advanced on her with both arms wide. In one hand _he_ now held the knife.

“Noc!” Coram bellowed, drawing the muzzle up and aiming for the other Hylerian. His fingers jammed around what he hoped was the trigger, because Noc glanced back, as if he’d just now noticed Coram wasn’t in the chair. Clearly not in the right mindset, he huffed at the sight of the rifle.

Paz rammed into him headfirst, colliding with the giant and sending him crashing backward. She didn’t give him time to recover, hands grabbing the back of the chair and yanking on it with every ounce of strength she currently possessed. Coram couldn’t help gulping when it cracked from the floor, coming with her as she descended on Noc. Right in front of him he watched, dumbfounded, while she smashed it into Noc.

That… _damn_.

Noc crumpled to the floor, but not without help. Soon as his grip loosened Paz regained control of her knife, shoving him down and straddling his chest. In a second the blade was at his throat, biting into his skin. He hardly had time to register who currently held him down, her blood dripping down into his exhausted, frazzled face.

A shadow loomed over them both, Coram glaring down at Noc, rifle now aimed at his temple. Blinking away blood and sweat, Noc’s panicked gaze darted between the two. Despite the blaring alarm, a heavy silence fell over the three for a heartbeat.

“See, dude?” Paz finally panted, confident in Coram’s nearness. Her grip on the Hylerian’s neck, just beneath his jaw, tightened enough to force his head back at an awkward angle. “Told you to sit this out.”

“Get off him,” Coram announced, surprising her. Paz did no such thing, though she did flick unfocused eyes up at him a moment. The blade bit deeper, making Noc choke.

“Uh, fuck no.”

He paid her no mind, crouching closer to let the muzzle rest on Noc’s skull. “Last chance. Noc, I know—know this was your choice but you can help _us_. Help your own people. _Please_.”

Disgusted, Noc shut his eyes. He refused to acknowledge the other man. Too close and too enraged, Paz sneered. That blade kept digging in, Noc’s lifeblood springing forth. It was clear she wanted to kill him, wanted to slit his throat and be done with him.

And yet…

And yet she shoved off, pushing away to let Coram guard Noc while she tended to her shoulder. It was only possible because he was free; otherwise, he knew she’d have already killed him.

“We’re not having this conversation,” she hissed in Noc’s stead, glowering at the brute. “You’re dead, motherfucker.”

“No he’s not,” Coram found himself arguing, _needing_ to at least try. Ignoring Paz completely, he refocused on Noc. “I told you once—it still holds.”

Somehow, Noc’s chest rose in a bitter huff. He hadn’t moved, likely only because of the firepower trained on him at the moment and the fact a hellcat would come at him in the blink of an eye should he try anything. She’d already wiped her blade off, keen on using it again.

“Fuck off, Halverson,” the other Hylerian breathed, groaning in pain, knees shaking as he tried shifting. “I’m not joining your cult.”

In front of him Paz audibly choked in outrage, her body shuddering. “Cult? _Cult_? What do you call downstairs then, motherfucker?”

“What’s downstairs?” Coram asked, though he clearly already knew. He’d figured it out early on, already decided it was better to die than stay here.

The girl in front of them relaxed, but not in a good way. Paz fixed first him and then Noc with a dirty, wide-eyed stare. She wasn’t playing around.

Coram went dizzy with fear as the features of Lady Virgo vanished, Paz freely baring herself just for Noc. She kept staring, lower lip trembling as she ground out, “A place to use people like _us_. Like me.”

Trapped between the two of them, Noc stopped breathing for a second as he stared back. His jaw loosened. Coram had imagined it might only hours ago if he were to ever know, and he struggled to comprehend this…

This woman.

This Hylerian who’d come for Coram, when no one else would.

Gods, he was glad the giant between them wasn’t paying attention, because he couldn’t have pulled the trigger at the moment even if he tried. The wall was the only thing holding him up, honestly.

“Y-you,” Noc finally stammered, visibly shaking. “It’s you. You really…you’re alive? You’re okay?”

Judging by the look on Paz’s face she didn’t know what that meant, nor did she want to consider it. Instead she bared her teeth once more.

“Ye, and I plan to be for a very, very long time, and _not_ in here.”

“Of course,” Noc gasped, unable to tear his gaze away. One could see his mind working, spinning to put pieces together that’d been left unattended for years. “Of course. I…” Any semblance of rage he’d carried disappeared, focus now on something else Coram knew too well. Noc frowned deeply, concern becoming palpable. “You need to go. Now.”

Paz, reasonably, had become lost. She’d been expecting more of a fight and Coram…well, he’d assumed the first thing out of Noc’s mouth wouldn’t be about leaving. At least the alarm stopped, the only good thing to have come out of this.

“What?” she managed while her ears still rang, seriousness replaced with confusion. Noc shook his head.

“Not like this. Not—not here. You should _not_ be here.” He turned to Coram, eyes pleading his case. He obviously knew now, how this had happened. How she’d come to stand before him. “I called off the alarm and can unlock the doors but that—that’s the best I can do. Head to the roof—don’t go back downstairs.”

“Ah, _excuse me_ —”

“There’s an exit two floors up, you can’t miss it,” Noc continued over Paz’s words. “Take it, cross to the armory. It should be easier to escape from there.”

“Come with us,” Coram yelled, more out of frustration than anything. He lowered his aim, already thinking up a mad plan out of here. “You could keep them off our tail, and you know what I promised still stands. You could—”

“I’m not leaving,” Noc refused, head shaking at a dizzying rate. “I can’t. I—fuck, you _know_ what it cost but it’s the best I can do for you. For them.” He paused, attention back on a fuming Paz. “For her. I’m sorry, dear. I—.”

His face crumpled, lip trembling as tears spilled from his eyes. Coram braced himself, hating himself for it but doing so nonetheless.

“Vanson would’ve loved you,” Noc choked out, grief constricting what had once been fine, Hylerian features.

“Vanson?” Paz retched in a strangled shriek, burning stare turning to Coram again. He hated her attention, couldn’t handle it currently, so he watched Noc cry instead. “ _Vanson_? Who—who the fuck is this?”

_Your uncle_. He wanted to say it, he really did, but he just…gods, he couldn’t say it. He’d tried so hard to put her on a need to know basis, hoped to make her see the writing on the wall on her own, and yet here they were. Here they fucking were. This was the absolute last thing he’d wanted to bring before her.

“Go,” Noc repeated, one hand slowly closing over his eyes as he wept. “Go. Please. I can’t—I never intended to lead you here, _never_.”

It was like he’d flipped a switch. Whether or not she realized what was going on, Paz shifted back on timid heels. She sheathed her knife, silent as death, yet her chest rose and fell in quick, sharp gasps. Coram glanced over only a moment, wishing he hadn’t. She knew there was truth in something Noc said, didn’t know what, but it was now hers to carry.

Her own stubbornness wouldn’t allow her to keep asking questions, because she’d never wanted any of this. Never.

Noc should’ve known to shut up but he couldn’t help himself. He remained on the floor, gentle as could be as he rasped, “You _are_ Topaz, yes?”

Head aching, Coram looked away, to the door. They needed to go. He didn’t know where, or how, or if Paz actually had a plan, but they’d work that out in a bit. She shouldn’t have even entertained Noc by wavering there on suddenly unsteady feet, like the rage that’d compelled her these past few minutes had completely disappeared.

“Ye,” she finally answered, her voice soft and…vulnerable. Coram had never heard it like that, though he hadn’t expected anything to come out of her mouth, either. Gods, they needed to be gone. Noc was providing lenience; they might as well utilize it.

Without further debate, he moved for the door. He grabbed her by the elbow on the way and she went willingly. She only ripped her eyes from Noc when they slid open the now unsecured door, pushing into an empty hall, hurrying to the left and dashing past a horde of offices.

They didn’t see Noc tilt his head back, eyes peering past the ceiling in the same way Desh’s had earlier, as if he could see beyond.


	45. Ch 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't really a chapter, this is 3am-can't-sleep-so-let's-expand-the-lore angst, that is all. Honestly, Paz is a lot more like her dad than she'll ever know, or admit to lol.

~20 years ago~

-Tibur Phi quadrant, M56-

The door to the shared suite whooshed open, drunken footsteps shuffling in and filling the previously peaceful room. A moment later all went quiet save for the occasional sniff. On the bottom bunk a figure grunted while he angrily twisted around in bed, gagging next.

“You _reek_.”

There was a faint huff of laughter, followed by more shuffling. The bunk’s frame wobbled until someone collapsed on the top bed, a mere couple meters from the ceiling. Their ship was not the epitome of luxury, or even anywhere near comfortable, but they’d only stolen it several months ago. There’d be another rig in the future, a better one, just like before.

More silence ensued. It was late, incredibly late, and they’d spent weeks stalking a Nav cruiser, going for the kill less than fifteen hours ago. _That_ ship was nice, and would be theirs soon, once it was cleaned up. Gods, the amount of bodies they’d floated around glo-set had been insane. Still, the harsh reality of the matter was…the less Nav there were, the more free they became.

And more exposed, too, but that was a concern for a different night.

“Noc,” came a vulnerable, warbling voice. At first nothing in the bottom bunk stirred, the darkness becoming more palpable. Then Noc let out a heavy exhale, rolling to his back.

“What?”

Up above it went quiet for a while, almost too long, and then, “I have to tell you something.”

Down below Noc waited for some drunk confession. He heard it all the time. His brother loved spilling his guts at inopportune moments. Nothing came however and Noc growled as he frowned.

“ _What_?”

The top bunk shifted slightly. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“Fuck, Van; who am I gonna tell? You haven’t even _said_ anything.”

“Ah.” His brother chuckled. “Right.” Another pause. “You promise?”

Sitting up, Noc rubbed a sore, burned hand over tired eyes. “What the fuck do you want?”

It was as good a promise as he could give. The top bunk went still. One minute went by, then two. Noc almost thought his brother had passed out.

“I have a daughter.”

“ _What_?!” Without warning Noc pounded a fist above him on the metal frame. “Fuck, dude! What the fuck do you mean you have a daughter?”

His brother snickered, though it sounded weak. Noc threatened with a few more harsh thumps but the top bunk was quiet once more. That was the most infuriating thing about him. He’d changed in the years since they’d mutinied. He was never in a rush, always took his time no matter the situation.

“Dude,” Noc exclaimed a little more forcefully, frustrated. Now he wasn’t going to be able to sleep, and he was tired as shit. “What the fuck?”

It seemed like an eternity before a soft whisper came from above. “When I was with Sath. When we…ran.”

Immediately Noc’s anger dissipated. He fell back to the mattress, thinking hard. That’d been years ago, and he knew…knew his brother was still fucked up over that woman. Who wouldn’t?

Watching the person you’d placed every single hope and emotion into shot, execution-style, wasn’t something you could forget. They’d all witnessed it.

“Fuck,” Noc murmured, mostly because he didn’t know what else to say. It’d been years. Why’d he never say anything?

“Ye.” His brother cleared his throat. “I thought…thought if we left, maybe…maybe we’d figure shit out.”

That’d been before everything. When they’d all been weak. When they’d been struggling just to survive under the thumb of a cruel asshole who treated his property like trash. Noc remembered his brother back then, knew he’d been more optimistic back then. Knew he’d had this stupid hope that if he could just _get away_ from all this bullshit, then maybe they’d have a chance.

Of course, there were no chances for people like them.

“What happened to her?” Noc asked, struggling to understand why his brother would say something now. More minutes went by, the top bunk quiet and motionless. Then another sniff.

“We were on that cargo ship, ye? The one with that asshole captain who turned us in. But Sath…she chatted up one of the engineers, convinced her to help us.” Gentle laughter rose to the ceiling. “I don’t fucking know how, but she did, and they…took her. Left soon as Sath had our girl.”

For whatever reason Nov paled, a cold sweat breaking out on his skin. He sat up once more, straining to glare at the end of the bed in the dark. This was…not at all what he wanted to hear.

“You remember who took her?”

Another long stretch of silence before he received an answer. “Ye.”

Gods, sometimes having a conversation with his brother was worse than pulling teeth. The response indicated he didn’t want to divulge who it was, so Noc didn’t push. Instead he asked, “Is she…are they still alive?”

“Ye.” His brother’s voice couldn’t be any softer. Still Noc pressed.

“And your—your daughter?” _What was left of their family_.

Sheets crumpled overhead, his answer softer. “Ye.”

Brows creasing deeper, Noc tilted his head and stared hard at the metal bunk. What the fuck was he supposed to do with this information? Why’d his brother say anything? There wasn’t room on board for some kid, not with the ragtag group they’d rallied taking up every square centimeter of free space. Beyond that, his brother had no business messing around with a child. On a _good_ day he could barely stand straight half the time, incredibly enamored with booze when they weren’t fucking shit up on Nav patrols.

“So…what do you want to do about it?” he demanded, words coming out harsher than intended. “Go find her? Pick her up? Teach her tricks of the trade?”

His brother snorted as if that were the funniest thing in the universe. “She’s a toddler, Noc. No. I… No, she’s better off. Away from me. From us.”

From this bullshit, he meant. Noc heard it between his slurred words. Knowing that eased some of the tension in his gut. At least his brother wasn’t trying to add more excitement to their already overwhelmed lives.

“Vanson, I…” Shutting his jaw, he recoiled from what he’d meant to say. Still uneasy, he settled back down, thoughts all over the place. “I’m sorry.”

The room went quiet once more. Noc’s thoughts kept spiraling, wondering where this kid was, who she was with, whether or not they might ever be curious about their parents or if they even knew. It was hard to tell but he speculated no one would ever talk. Hylerians were currently scum _du jour_ to the Nav, and that likely wouldn’t end anytime soon. No one wanted to be associated with them any longer, not even some of their usual suppliers and allies. Things weren’t the way they used to be, unfortunately.

Overhead the entire frame shuddered while his brother tossed one way. “They named her Topaz. Just like Sath’s eyes, man. Gods, Sath…she would’ve loved her.”

It took everything in Noc’s shriveled, numb heart not to respond, not to ask how his brother knew that. He wanted to know more, wanted to see what this kid looked like, too, or who was taking care of her.

But if even Vanson knew she was better off elsewhere, then he had no choice but to agree, because it was true. Their ship, their crew, their lives…

No one needed to be exposed to this shit.


	46. Ch 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, finally the chronicle that was Beta comes to an end, sidenote, this whole arc was never supposed to happen but there needed to be a proving ground, and so, obviously Paz isn't leaving without a bang :)

They’d barely passed the dozens of offices before Paz began to see some issues. Well, many, but there were a few of particular concern. One, Noc had said to head up two levels then cross over to the armory but she had no idea how to get there, or whether it was even a good idea. She sent Desh what she knew and he acted like he thought it was fine, so…she supposed that was still the plan.

Desh, by the way, had apparently gotten a ship under his control and had it on standby at the moment, waiting for her signal (which was her confirming they were on a roof— _any_ roof at all).

The second concern she couldn’t stop thinking about was, in general, this Noc fellow. It’d taken her a bit but she’d…sort of seen something in him that she…hadn’t wanted to see. And now she was stewing over it, wondering if maybe they should go back and grab him regardless of his stupid decision to stay with the Nav. They’d already barged into another stairwell however and were climbing as quickly as they could. Turning around when they hadn’t yet run into anyone seemed like a bad idea.

Thirdly, there was the matter of her dumb-ass companion. Coram was slipping. From what she didn’t know, but they’d made it all of fifty meters from his closet of a jail cell before he veered hard to the left and crashed into a wall. At that point he tried his damndest to correct himself but even Paz realized he couldn’t really function, could barely hold himself upright. With her swirling thoughts she hadn’t bothered asking what was wrong, waiting for maybe ten seconds before worrying they were sitting targets if he couldn’t go on.

But, she wasn’t going anywhere without him. She grabbed him off the wall, ignored his hissing, and hauled him over her shoulders. It hurt like hell and at first she staggered a bit under his weight (Reeser had been a little lighter), but she could at least move. She’d worry about her injuries later—Noc hadn’t slashed very deep, but it sure had produced a lot of blood.

So _she_ was the one doing all the moving, Coram’s protests unheeded. There would be no backtracking, if only because she didn’t want to go any farther than necessary.

She didn’t have room to think about anything else at the moment. Yes, there were a lot of things to think about, but if she allowed herself to contemplate then she might not be able to carry him, and if she couldn’t carry him then they probably weren’t leaving.

“Put me down,” Coram moaned, much like he’d already ordered about twenty times previously. “Ungh, p-put me _down_. Please.”

Paz dutifully pretended she hadn’t heard and kept climbing. They were almost to the first landing, and when she’d leaned one way to glance up she was relieved to see another set of stairs. She’d gotten so lucky, so much, in here. Just in case however she’d put on her Lady Virgo face again. Who knew when they’d run into officers? She’d run into plenty downstairs and she had no doubt the last couple levels weren’t just…empty.

Although, downstairs she’d merely avoided most officers until she’d needed to destroy the last staircase she’d come from. _That_ had done her in, setting off a goddamned alarm. Noc’s decision to call it off had been generous. Super weird and not at all what she’d been expecting, but she’d accept it.

Coram seemed to know what was going on, and so while she refused to think about it or ask questions, she knew she could bully him into answers later. She’d just saved his ass so he’d better.

“ _Please_!” Coram hollered, voice coming out as a weak warble instead. Whatever’d happened to him had either been recent or just…horrible, and Paz wasn’t sure which was worse. Still, she kept him across her shoulders because there was no better alternative.

“You’re gonna get us caught,” she chided, grunting as her steps grew heavy and stilted right before the first landing. Ugh, one more of these to go. She staggered forward, trying to catch her breath before the next flight. “Just hang on, okay?”

It’d be so much easier if she wasn’t constantly readjusting, one slick shoulder and his squirming not helping in the slightest. Still, she gulped down air and grabbed the railing, forcing herself up the steps. At this rate they’d be lucky if they made it to the top.

And yes, she was aware she wasn’t doing this on her own. The thing at her chest burned, presence never forgotten. She almost wanted to drop Coram and scream over it, but that would be…weak, and there was no time. Man, why was he so goddamned heavy?

“I’ll make it,” the captain loopily promised, pants making it sound like the exact opposite would occur. He squirmed harder, muscles quaking against her back which was…ugh, _not_ a good sensation today. “I just—fuck, _get it out_.”

He’d mentioned something about that, too, several times, but hadn’t really elaborated and she didn’t have the energy to investigate. The need to keep moving was more pressing, steps slowly disappearing beneath them. “Sorry, dude. Unless you’re about to die we’re not—not stopping.”

And even then she probably wouldn’t stop, not now. Thankfully he just ground his teeth so she took that as a ‘fine’ and shifted her hips, wrenching up another step. Then another. Then worked him into a better angle because he kept slipping, then another. Almost there. She counted steps, praying there wouldn’t be more. This had to be the top. Noc said it was. She wanted to rip his eyeballs out but she didn’t think he’d lied. Not when he’d become so weird before they…left him.

 _Go back_ , she found herself thinking, which was not at all what she wanted to focus on. _Just go back, real quick, to make sure he hasn’t changed his mind_.

She shook her head, blinking back sweat and whispering her refusal. Not now. He’d already decided and who was she to make decisions for some dick? She wasn’t…she wasn’t…

She faltered at one of the last steps, courtesy of a cavalcade of officers banging out onto the top landing, regulation style rifles out and ready. Their shouts drowned out her harsh cry as she went sideways, immediately dropping Coram. At least she tried to do so in a nice way—he still slid down a couple steps on his ass before dizzily grabbing onto the railing. Well, he’d gotten what he wanted.

Forgetting him, Paz whipped her own rifle around and sized up the competition. Six offers, all of them shouting even as she steadied herself.

“Weapon down!”

Oh fuck no, nobody from the Nav told her what to do, not today, and whoever in particular screamed that was going down first. Even if Coram had objectives she wasn’t interested in hearing them out. The muzzle swung to face the nearest cop. She probably didn’t look the most intimidating at the moment but…that’d change.

“Get out of my way,” she seethed, swiping faces to that of the other Hylerian from Alpha, or at least the best she’d been able to conjure in the past hour. Her body projected a little taller, teeth gnashing to simulate the clicking. Almost immediately three of them dropped their weapons and backed up, clearly freaked out by the illusion. They didn’t even stick around, disappearing through the door they’d crashed in through and to Paz, that meant they’d never seen the likes of a real Hylerian.

Great.

Without Coram’s weight she pounded up the last couple steps. Any firepower trained on her shook, courtesy of the freaked out officers wielding them. Even better.

“Out of my way!” she boomed, doing her best menacing snarl. “I am _not_ in a good mood!”

 _Almost there, Desh,_ she pinged in the meantime, refusing to back down. Ugh, none of the three cops were backing down, either.

 _How’s he doing_?

Aiming a little more precisely, Paz considered. _He’ll live, I think_.

Desh’s response was just a string of curses so she made up her mind. The remaining trio she sneered at, then fixed her rifle on them and the partition behind them. Bracing herself, she pulled the trigger.

Instead of chaos and destruction, however, came nothing. She pulled the trigger again—only a lame clicking sound echoed from the chamber. Fuck! Hundreds of years in cryo and she’d broken it by using it as a bat? Well, might as well keep using it in the same fashion, then.

She launched herself at the closest with a roar—a fucking roar, how dramatic—and went to bat, swinging hard and fast and holy fuck did it feel good when they crunched one way before hitting the floor. Bullets punched through the air along with a single laser—someone was important enough to carry the good shit. Didn’t matter to Paz though, which was both incredibly dangerous but also very freeing. She couldn’t keep track of who was shooting or if anyone else had returned to the cramped landing . To her, it’d become a smear of blurry colors and heat. Anywhere there was a shadow of a figure she swung, bones of a lesser person cracking, screams joining gunfire. At some point something flicked at her forehead—someone’s tooth. Ugh, gross.

And yet she didn’t care. The rest of her energy was spent mercilessly throwing herself at anyone who wasn’t writhing on the ground, bashing the rifle into them like they were punching bags. There was no rhyme or reason; she just wanted them out the way, so she was making it happen. Seriously, she was so sick and tired of this game. She’d found the fucking stick—everything else was extra and she’d beat them all into a bloody pulp if she had to.

Which she…definitely was. The gun worked really well as a club, smashing into officers left and right. If they didn’t hit the floor then they were sliding down the paneling, then tumbling downstairs. Her shoulder barely even smarted, not while she was incensed.

She’d knocked one into a corner and brandished her new favorite weapon when someone grabbed her by the good shoulder. Paz whirled around to kick them off but it was only Coram. He looked sick as hell, albeit coherent, and he jerked his chin for the unsecured door in front of the landing.

Wide open and theirs for the taking.

Blinking, her gaze swept the floor. Nav officers were scattered, all of them down and either moaning in pain or…not making a sound. At least one’s head looked a little…wonky. She held in her gag, mind still buzzing with adrenaline.

“Let’s go,” he rasped, wincing as his jaw moved. She looked to her last victim before nodding in agreement.

“Right. Ye.” Lady Virgo returned and she kicked open the door, pushing them into another long yet narrow hall, with floor-to-ceiling windows on each side. While they shuffled forward she eyed left and right, Beta’s cityscape looming in on all sides, sort of like a wall. Interesting. But where did this lead? This wasn’t the roof, was it? Or…was it like a bridge to the next building? They’d have to keep going to find out.

She made sure to keep in pace with the captain’s weird limping. She’d try hoisting him up again but he wasn’t distracted and…he _was_ moving.

Thinking it’d act as a motivator she knocked elbows with him, making Coram wince once more. It looked awful what with his already puffy eyelids.

“Think you could carry this?” she asked, motioning to her gun. If anything he could make it look intimidating and hopefully keep cops off him. She figured she could better utilize the blade.

Pausing halfway down the hall, Coram eyed what she offered and swallowed thickly. What she’d thought was hesitation turned out to be him just registering what she’d said, firmly grabbing the weapon a beat later. Frowning, Paz stared after him as he turned to continue on. Something was wrong with his head. She could see the angry swelling behind one ear, skin a sharp purple and blue and completely disgusting. Still, he was walking, and currently ahead. Her focus lingered before flitting away and behind them, grateful no one had emerged to follow, at least from that direction. If any of the officers from the landing were still around they’d likely already gone on ahead to request backup.

That…she wasn’t looking forward to dealing with that, the stone burning even more harshly against her chest. Honestly, she knew how it’d go. One didn’t bust in, maim and/or take out a good number of people, and then expect nothing to come of it. Plus, this was the Royal Navy. They weren’t stupid, no matter how clever she currently felt.

And she had sort of wrecked some shit, too, so…you know, there was a trail. Funnily enough, she’d never really considered those consequences before. Aware? Hell yes, but actually thought them through? Nah, not really.

Up ahead Coram slowed, barely avoiding tripping over his feet. One hand automatically reached behind his head and he paled immensely as he touched the tight patch of skin. He faltered to his knees, rifle clattering beside him. Exhaling heavily, Paz quickly skidded over to hover. Damnit, they weren’t going to get far with him like this. She crouched, glancing left and right before making him move his hand.

“I can cut it out,” she offered, grimacing at his neck. It truly looked awful. “Or—relieve pressure?”

After an agonizingly long moment, the captain uttered the smallest grunt of approval. Knife already in hand, Paz wasted no time and grabbed him just as she’d done with Desh.

“This is gonna hurt.”

Judging by the way he gasped while she made a quick slash through his flesh, she guessed it really did. His body went taut against hers. She held on tight, ignoring the awful sensation of blood and something watery leaking down her hand. So much had gone on at this point she didn’t dwell on it for long, more interested in putting him back on his feet than anything.

 _Still working on leaving_ , she sent Desh. _Kind of stuck but we’ll figure it out_.

 _Anything I can do_? he wondered, sending her details on what to expect—a cruiser, and soon. Damn, he hadn’t been kidding. He—

Still holding Coram to her chest, Paz’s gaze flitted up to the glass ceiling. Dawn was approaching, the skyline already a pinkish periwinkle. Coram wasn’t going to be able to make it to another building, not like this, and she could try and carry him but…damnit, she was getting a little tired, and just a teeny bit frazzled. If they could be picked up from here…

She ran her plan by Desh, who agreed without any argument. Desperation was upon them.

“Desh’s coming,” she murmured to Coram, angling his head to study the wound. The swelling had gone down quite a bit. She’d keep digging but she didn’t want to further fuck with whatever was hurting him. Desh could probably help with that if they were fast enough. “He’s coming, so just—hang on.”

“He’s h-here?” the captain wondered, voice strained. “Fuck. He was s-supposed to—”

“Did that help?” she interrupted, anxious to get up. After some thought, Coram grunted a ‘ye’ and she pulled him with her to their feet. He even managed to snag the gun, which was promising. “Great. You keep holding onto that and we’ll be out of here in no time.”

Saying that was like speaking to a wall though, and any progress he’d made was gone soon as they were up. Coram tried, he really did, but he couldn’t hold himself up, not without help. Cursing her luck, and running out of energy, Paz ducked under one arm, pushing them onward. Holy fuck, she hated this trip.

Together they shuffled down the corridor, turning the corner to find an exit that did indeed lead across to another building. A great idea in theory but Paz could already see lights gathering on the other side, presumably waiting for them. Yeah, there was no way they were heading over. She yanked them backward, right around the corner they’d come from. Desh had said he was up in the air. He’d be there as soon as possible. All they had to do was wait for a bit, then he’d come straight in and…hopefully wreck more shit.

Turning the corner was a mistake, unfortunately. Backup from elsewhere had infiltrated the other end of the hall and as soon as they were spotted a dozen laser sights settled on Paz and Coram, barked orders filling the air. She froze, somehow surprised to see so many Nav officers pointing weapons at them.

At her.

Well. Ye, she’d been sneaking around and terrified of this happening, but she hadn’t actually…thought it’d happen. It so didn’t help when more voices and footsteps echoed from behind them. Fuck, they were surrounded.

“Don’t show your face,” Coram hissed through his teeth, a groan following. Sweating at the body count before them (there were at least two dozen officers), Paz barely heard him. There were suddenly so many reasons to panic and she couldn’t decide where to start.

 _Better hurry, dude,_ she sent to Desh, and to the captain she quietly asked, “Would it help?”

“No,” he snapped, which to her meant there was a possibility it might. She didn’t know how, not yet, but…

“Drop your weapons, hands on the ground!” somebody yelled, voice booming through the hall. Paz heard it but made no move to do so.

“Do it,” Coram muttered, sliding out of her grasp and collapsing on his knees with a huff. “Come on, just—”

“Man, I’ve been looking for you guys.” Time. They needed time and she was great at bullshitting. That was the idea anyway as Paz stepped in front of Coram, hands loosely raised, blade angled awkwardly. No way in hell she was dropping that. Instead she offered a sweet grin at the officers, hips rolling as she swaggered a few meters closer. “Look, nothing personal but I have a score to settle with this dude. You can have him once I’m done, ye?”

“On your knees!” Their leader, whichever one it was, was screaming at her like it’d definitely scare her. Paz’s smile broadened into something that probably wasn’t very kind. She issued a low laugh.

“Rude. Look, I’m gonna be honest—my boss isn’t going to be happy about this. So, it’s really in your best interest to step back.”

Finally, the leader deigned to play along. In a heavily armored outfit, he stepped forth from the pack, glare never leaving her. “Get on your fucking knees and state your company. Elsewise this ends now.”

“Fine, fine,” she consented, lazily sliding to one knee, then the other, while her mind went into overdrive. Anything to distract, to confuse, to point the blame in the opposite direction. Both shoulders offered a slight shrug and she gave him the name of a Triad offshoot Val used to deal with. The leader clearly had a hard time believing it so she elaborated, just a bit, one elbow jabbing back at Coram.

“See, this dude owes us some credits and I mean, you guys basically told us where he could be found. And like, no one answered our appeals so…”

“Bullshit,” the leader guy correctly spat, striding in front of her, boots thudding heavily on the ground. “Scipper’s don’t operate in this quadrant and we only announced his capture yesterday. It would take you _weeks_ to jet here.”

Right. That was probably true. Paz didn’t care—she was making up shit for time’s sake. Letting her cheeks color she winced in embarrassment. “I…”

“State your name, _now_ ,” he snarled, “before I blow your fucking head off.”

Okay, he wasn’t playing the same game as her, apparently. Paz debated what to tell him but shouldn’t he have already known? Noc she’d understood—they’d been fighting—but this guy should’ve gathered a read on her biometrics by now. But then…Coram had said not to show her face, like it’d somehow help. Had they…how did one _conceal_ biometrics?

 _Practice caution, Kamul_.

That ping. That weird one from earlier. What if…

She took her chances, forcing her body to tense, just in case this guy was serious. “Kamul Lapata.”

She’d been expecting a snort of contempt, maybe even a smirk. The guy kept staring however, his glare narrowing. The hall fell silent, and as Paz glanced up she realized he knew the name she’d just given.

Slowly, he dropped to his haunches and pointed at her with his rifle like it was nothing more than a trinket. “Welcome to the Federation, Kamul. How’d you enjoy your sleep? Better yet, how’d you get out? This motherfucker?”

He knew— _they_ knew who this Kamul was, which was awful because she didn’t and couldn’t really back it up. Gathering from what circumstantial evidence she’d seen (she had a Hylerian comm that a true Hylerian had given her, likely from someone in cryo which meant…was Kamul the one who’d given her the Hylerian history? She wasn’t sure but she was willing to gamble), Paz swallowed and let him think she was choosing her words carefully. Again, she just needed time. Nothing needed to actually make sense.

 _Desh, you’d better be like, screaming across town right now_.

_Almost there, kid. You sure about this?_

_Yes! Just do it—I’ll get us to you, promise_.

“Kind of disappointing to see you never updated your decor,” she remarked, tsk-ing irreverently. “I mean, what, all these years and you never—”

Swift as could be he struck her across the face with his rifle, which hurt as much as she’d hoped it would hardly five minutes ago. For a second Paz saw stars, a sharp crack clanging through first her cheek then head, and she promptly hit the floor a split second after impact. She wasn’t proud of the dumb ‘oof’ that escaped her mouth but well, damn, that _did_ hurt. And she hit the grates on her bad shoulder, which was really just insulting. Struck stupid, she lay there on her side for a second, clearly needing more time. That…she hadn’t been expecting that.

“Try again,” he growled, even as her ears rang. “I’m _nice_ compared to some of my cohorts, some you’ll be seeing soon. It’s in your best interest to tell me how you got your lying, thieving ass here and what he had to do with it. He the one who cracked into Alpha? That it?”

Huffing harder, Paz gingerly reached to cradle her jaw. Her knife was gone, knocked away in the blow. Fuck. She badly wanted to find it but slid her focus to this douchebag instead, spitting blood before too much welled up in her mouth. Any remaining bravado was forgotten. The thing tucked to her chest gave her courage instead, feeding her desire to settle the score, whatever score that was.

“He did nothing,” she simply answered, voice low and quivering. “And between you and me? I wouldn’t be worried about him. If I were you, I’d be much, _much_ more worried about my partner.”

The officer’s pupils dilated, though he didn’t show any other signs of recognition. Paz still saw it, still capitalized on it. She slashed a lopsided, bloody grin at him. “Alpha was just a taste of what will come. Better start groveling while you can, bitch.”

And for good measure she slid on the Hylerian mask, riding that thin line between stupid and insane for just a moment while he shoved back, as terrified as anyone else who’d seen it thus far. Paz would’ve laughed at his fear but he was readying his gun, yelling at others to do the same, ‘orders’ be damned.

Wait, _orders_? Time seemed to slow. She watched the Nav move, thoughts spiraling. They wouldn’t have let her leave this place if caught, she’d already known that (even if she consciously ignored it) but to them…it didn’t seem like it mattered _who_ she was, Hylerian or human. Something about that, something about their need to keep this secret, made her heart throb, an anger pouring through her like molten steel. She’d never wanted this, never wanted to go against the Nav, to break into their house or harm them, _never_.

And yet it was all she could comprehend. All she desired was a toothless Nav, a force of charred, maimed bodies that couldn’t go on as they pleased, that couldn’t keep taking people, people like _her_ , for something she didn’t even understand, or—

Her spine lit up as a ping came in and she immediately twisted to where she’d left Coram before shrieking, “ _Duck_!”

A heavy boom serenaded the glass hall first, the air itself tensing for a nanosecond before heat and noise roared through the space. Glass shattered from all directions, raining down in a sharp, plinking deluge. Snapping out of her own fury Paz remembered to duck as well and shut her eyes.

 _Ride’s here_. That had been Desh’s announcement, something she silently cheered over even as shards pounded down on her back. She’d asked him to shoot at the building with the glass walkway and he, with his cruiser-filching wisdom, had delivered. Man, he was the best.

The second she thought it was safe she popped up and tilted her head to the sky, a massive, Nav-approved rig hovering right over the building, its engines serving as a deafening background. Goddamnit, Desh had earned her eternal respect for that maneuver.

Chaos erupted around her, Nav officers who’d been too stupid to shut their eyes screeching alongside the engines. The closer the rig drew to the hall the more heat and wind blasted the surface, sending debris scattering. Shielding her eyes best she could, Paz grabbed her knife before it flew off, then zipped back to Coram. Sure enough he’d taken her warning at face value, hunching in on himself with the rifle being used as a shelter of sorts. Good captain.

Without even thinking she grabbed at his stained shirt and shook it off, shards sliding off while he unfurled. They said nothing to one another, not while she ensured he only had a few pieces embedded and he did the same. She was sure his heart was pounding as quickly as hers, their opportunity to escape finally here.

Up above the rig hovered mere meters from touching down, blasting lesser people back with its engines. A hatch in the belly popped open, a ladder slowly unfurling. Grabbing Coram tight by one bicep, Paz ran for the hatch, glad for the extra weight keeping her from becoming human debris. Together they swept under the large engines, darting over Nav officers who’d perished in the blast, and homing in on that swinging ladder as quickly as they could.

 _Get to the ladder, get out of here_. That was all she could think about, shoving Coram ahead of her once they were in range and prodding him onto the first wavering rung. It took him a second but he figured it out, forcing himself up and into the hatch’s landing with a nimbleness only desperate adrenaline could provide. Paz waited until he was all the way up before she jumped and grabbed the ladder, slick hands making it difficult. Still, it didn’t stop her from madly pinging at Desh— _go, go, go, go, go!_

Hanging there like a wet rag, she felt the ground disappear beneath her, the cruiser ascending as quickly as it’d come in. Down below she knew any remaining Nav officers were likely recollecting themselves, likely looking for their weapons. Legs kicking madly, she used every bit of strength left to pull herself higher, even as the universe tilted—Desh was turning, readying to push first out of Beta and then make for the stars. Her grip slipped, which made her stomach drop.

Gasping, Paz did her best to hold on, muscles screaming in both panic and exhaustion. Oh fuck—fuck no, she couldn’t die this way. This wasn’t fair. She stupidly glanced down, Beta’s city suddenly a whole lot tinier than it’d been just moments ago and sucking what was left of her strength. _Shit, shit, shit—_

Coram wasn’t much better at the moment but at least he was something, half hanging out the hatch and holding onto her closest wrist with a crushing grip. It’d be painful if it wasn’t keeping her attached to the ship. Paz didn’t think about the tears burning her eyes, blinking fast anyway to keep the whipping wind at bay. Her hair obscured most everything anyway, but even so she managed gaining a better grip and climbing the rest of the way up in a hurry. Coram reeled her in before banging on the hatch’s operations panel, the ladder beginning its now quick return to the ship.

While he did that Paz rolled as far from the lip of the hatch as possible, gasping and panting for air. They’d already ascended quite a bit, rendering it rather thin up here. She yanked off her illusions, stupidly thinking it’d free up her airway. Even if it didn’t, it felt better than being smothered with modifications.

“Go,” she raggedly yelled, sending it off as a ping, too. “ _Go_!”

Soon as the hatch secured itself, Desh pushed the cruiser into void-mode. Both she and Coram were pushed into the dirty floor while extra drives came to life. Pressure increased, harder, faster, thrusters whining—

And then they were off. The rig shook at the speed Desh pushed. Paz barely noticed, tiredly shutting her eyes and trying to calm herself down. At the bottom of the ship’s hatch there wasn’t much opportunity, especially not when someone was suddenly hovering over her, rough hands continuing to brush off stray detritus. Even as the engines roared around them, she cracked open one eye, then the other.

Tired and sick of all this shit as she was, her insides still twisted at the sight of Coram fussing over her. He looked awful, truly _awful_ , and she almost thought she saw wet streaks on his cheeks but that was sweat. Still, seeing him so close, so worried, and so _alive_ …

She managed a faint smile, finally (finally!) relaxing. She wanted to tell him all sorts of things, wanted to tell him off for getting caught and trusting pretty people, wanted to rant about the awful things she’d seen or at the very least tell him what an idiot he was for wasting time talking to Noc but…

He beat her to it, setting a shaking hand on her hip as he choked out, “That was a really stupid idea, Paz.”

Stupid as it was, he was still grinning in relief. Curling up, she shrugged.

“Worth it.”

Overhead, Desh’s crackling, glorious voice filled the air. “Hang on. We’re hitting the stratosphere and from there…we’re out of here.”

Onto hyperspace, and then to freedom.

Finally.


	47. Ch 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paz is free!!! You hear that?? Freeee!!!

-Tauri Quadrant, M92-

Overall, it took two days to ensure the ship they’d nabbed was free of anyone following them, and to haul ass a safe distance from Beta and into new quadrants. Desh hit three separate gate highways to push them faster, putting them in the outskirts of Tauri quadrant and offering smooth sailing from there.

Unfortunately it was incredibly far from where they were supposed to return to the Lakai, but given the circumstances no one was complaining. Besides, all three were in poor shape so they’d need the extra time to recuperate. Good thing Desh had essentially stolen someone’s pleasure yacht, the ship fully stocked with food, water, and med supplies.

And alcohol. Alcohol was extremely necessary.

Things had gone well for the first day or so, if only because no one had any fight left in them. Desh and Coram hugged it out soon as Desh was able to reel them from the hatch. They then cleaned and stitched up each other’s wounds with only minor discrepancies. Once everything had been taken care of, Paz knocked the fuck out. She knew the ‘bros’ had catching up to do and wouldn’t begrudge them the pleasure.

After that, however, their more wary dynamic returned. Well, mostly. There had been a moment earlier on where Paz enveloped Desh in a solid, heartfelt hug (he, justifiably, shoved her off), but by the second day and many transfers along the quadrants, she’d had enough time to let everything sink in.

Hence, alcohol. Venemian brandy was her favorite, and she’d stockpiled the ship’s entire supply along with anything else that sounded good. It all went into the captain’s quarters she’d claimed, and she knew she’d only kept it because the other two wouldn’t dare poke at her now.

She’d saved both their asses, dealt damage to their enemy, and made a target of herself in the process now that the Nav had Kamul’s biometrics (unless she could peel those off, she might as well _be_ the Hylerian), uncovered a highly disturbing _thing_ going on in the Nav’s basement that sort of correlated with what she’d learned in Alpha, oh and Noc, it eventually occurred to her, might share her blood. She hadn’t asked but she had eyes and she just…had a feeling.

So. There was a lot to process, and a lot of walls to dent in the meantime. She was not figuring this shit out while sober and if either guy had a problem with it…well, they hadn’t said anything.

Not until the third day when she got so drunk she blacked out in her spacious, beautifully decorated room (the owner of the cruiser had super good taste) and failed to answer when the captain knocked on the door. She woke to cold water splashing over her face, courtesy of said captain.

One of his black eyes wouldn’t be fading anytime soon courtesy of her.

Several hours later after a shower, some food, and Desh bitching at them both, she grudgingly dropped into a copilot chair in the cockpit beside her two most (yet also least) favorite people in the universe at the moment. Her head pounded and she wished they’d lowered the ship’s lights but whatever, she’d put up with it. For now.

“What’d you guys want to talk about?” she groused, knees curled close to her chest. Dressed in fancy clothes from her room’s closet, she thought she looked fantastic, if a little overdressed. Also whatever. She’d be back in her room soon, happily engaging in oblivion and pretending she hadn’t had her eyes forced wide open.

“A lot,” Coram ground out, unable to look her way at the moment, and (dramatically, in her opinion) touching the area around his eye. Desh, the muscled genius he was, had managed salvaging the captain’s comm but Coram hadn’t yet found a set of mods to shove over his still healing face. It _was_ healing. Just, slowly. Sort of like her shoulder, which Desh had stitched up. Desh was currently their MVP, and she now knew exactly why Coram had him as his second. From what she’d determined Desh didn’t want to be captain of anything, but he was more than qualified.

Probably more than Coram if she was being honest, but even she knew not to bring that up.

She chose to glare out the rig’s dash, the void’s inky darkness far better on her eyes than the cabin’s innards. “Should be fun.”

“First things first,” the captain droned, shifting around in his seat. He had to face her for this, apparently. “You’re free to go soon as we return. This wasn’t what we intended but you’ve proven invaluable and I…ah, we’ll outfit you with a small rig, restart your comm, and send you off to Val as soon as possible.”

Her attention hadn’t shifted but Paz’s whole body had come to attention, a wobbly sense of excitement trying to push over her inebriation. She was free to go? That easily?

“Really?” she questioned at the same time as Desh, though they both clearly had different emotions going on. After a short pause, Coram grunted in confirmation.

“Ye. You’ve done more than enough. In the meantime, I’m hoping we could clear some things up.”

Of course. Yet she wasn’t as opposed to it now, not when freedom was a mere…week or two away, hopefully less. And she hadn’t even had to bully him for it. She’d assumed that’d be where she started on the way home to the Lakai but if he was offering it without a fuss then, well, she wasn’t questioning it. Damn, now she felt a little bad for punching him.

She had a feeling she knew what he wanted to know, but she went ahead and asked anyway. “What do you want to know? Beta? Nav’s insides? How bad Rahm is at flirting?”

The captain snorted, gaze veering to the dash. “No, thanks. Not about him. But the rest—ye, it’d be nice.”

“I told him like, most of what happened. Did he not tell you?” Had Desh never said anything either these past couple days?

The captain was silent, and she finally glanced over to see the end of him shaking his head. Taking a deep breath, Paz swiveled around to face him, too. Least she was still numb, so she launched into a rambling monologue that detailed her trip into Alpha, all the way to where she’d slipped into his cell. Some parts were of course edited (Desh kindly pretended he hadn’t heard a thing about them hooking up), but she gave them every bit of information she could recall, particularly from Alpha’s vault and the creepy one she’d also stumbled through in Beta. Even now she felt sick talking about that one, so she tried rushing through as quickly as possible. She tried demonstrating her shadow illusion but it was broken, so that was…great.

She was able to show them what she supposed Kamul looked like, taking pleasure in their discomfort. They appeared to take her seriously when she discussed what Kamul showed her, and cringed at Guinto’s apparent lust for revenge, which was ridiculous to her since they were essentially attempting the same thing. Coram did ask if Guinto hinted where they were heading after Alpha but she had to confirm she’d never thought to ask.

Both barely showed any emotion regarding Beta’s vault though. It pissed her off but she went on, detailing what she could—how many were there, who monitored the area, that sort of bullshit.

And then there was Noc. She skimmed over him because she didn’t want to think about the Hylerian. Desh however was a little incensed about him being there, though Coram seemed to have let it go. They kept shooting one another meaningful looks, she noticed, and assumed they’d dissect everything she said later when she was holed up in her room. She didn’t mind.

She didn’t want to know what they thought of the sticks being keys because that sounded nuts and also it had nothing to do with her. She didn’t want to know what they thought of Noc. She didn’t need to hear their excuses about the Hylerians trapped with the Nav, either. Yes, she’d wanted answers, but she’d sort of figured some shit out on her own and she hated it all. At this point she just wanted to ensure Coram would do something about the Nav. Like, _really_ do something.

Coram asked her just as much once she was finished, brooding in his chair as he let everything process. It’d been about an hour straight of talking, meaning there was a lot to think about. “So then, what kind of questions do you have? What can I answer for you?”

She wished she had brandy in hand but she’d been super good at clearing out that cache immediately. No, she didn’t want answers any longer. She was going home. Soon this would be an ugly memory where she did at least get to see the beach and some aliens so, you know, she’d earned a cool story out of it, but that was all. Sam’d get a kick out of it, at least. Sentia and Mandrelle might be disappointed she was still alive. Lonyn might be curious to hear about the former Nav defectors on board the Lakai, and Val…

She’d be happy to have her super special Hylerian back. The super special Hylerian who had a huge bounty on her head, that the Nav was _looking_ for, courtesy of Val even though Val never ever involved the Nav in anything previously, no matter how many times Paz had been arrested or jailed or…anything. Oh, and the Nav might be a little confused if they ever did find her only to realize she was also…Kamul.

Hmm.

Every fiber of her didn’t want to ask, but if she didn’t she might…might regret it.

“Is it true?” she quietly asked, gaze falling to her kneecaps. “What they said? About Val?”

The cabin fell into a deep silence. She had to look up to ensure he’d heard, which he had. Desh clearly had as well, doing his damndest to suddenly pretend the dashboard was so much more interesting than anything going on over his shoulder. Good man, minding his own damn business.

Coram’s throat bobbled as he swallowed. She didn’t like that he turned away as he said, “Ye. If you’re asking if she knew about what goes on in the Nav, I doubt it. But…ye. We intercepted messages regarding a sale, tracked down the other party, and turns out it came from Osiris.”

She made her own narrative in the suddenly way too quiet cockpit: He’d tried to heroically swoop in but it hadn’t gone as planned, not at all, and now they were all paying for it. Even so, despite asking about it she still rejected his answer. Val wouldn’t…she wouldn’t. Paz was valuable. There was no way. If he _had_ seen something then he’d been mistaken. Just…Val wouldn’t _sell_ her. They were a crew. A team, a…family, of sorts. This was just some giant scam, a way to justify their behavior. It made her sick to her stomach (though that might be the alcohol) and she…ye, it was the right thing to do, to go home. Her home, the only ship and crew she’d ever really known.

Slowly, she unfurled out of her chair. “Whatever you saw, whatever you intercepted? It was wrong.”

To his credit, the captain didn’t argue. He fidgeted with his boots instead, pulling a bland expression. “I guess so.”

The stupid part was she’d anticipated _some_ sort of argument, something to prove her otherwise, and yet he didn’t even call her back as she stomped off, done with their little meeting. ‘I guess so’ sounded so…final, like he was done with her just as much as she was with him.

She quickly slipped back up to her room before she could think further on it, slamming the door shut and flopping back into the unmade bed in a hurry, the whole ship spinning. He’d been wrong. There was someone else out there, another Hylerian who should’ve been ‘helped’, not her.

There absolutely couldn’t be any other alternative. Val wouldn’t do that, not to her.


	48. Ch 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Begging? From a Hylerian? Never. Sulking and looking pitiful? Maybe.

It was a lot harder to retain her guarded barrier this time, especially when there was limited space to wander. The alcohol was now gone and there was nothing else to keep her occupied. Paz grew bored way, _way_ too quickly. Her room was nice but not enough to keep her from brooding, which led to bad decisions, which Paz was good at so she kept on deviating in that fashion. Why not? No one was stopping her.

She pursued the ping that’d popped up out of the blue. It got her nowhere because no one ever responded to her spamming of demands, but the messages did go through. When nothing came of that she took to picking at her shoulders, the stitches Desh put in now itching and driving her nuts. This left her a bit of a bleeding mess but it didn’t stop her from returning to push-ups and the like, despite having hardly eaten anything which was super rare for her but to eat she’d need to leave her room and she obviously didn’t want to do that. This of course made her weak and sulky which pissed her off, and she spent a good day throwing things at walls in an attempt to make herself feel better (spoiler: it didn’t).

When she finally did emerge to find some food she made sure she couldn’t feel either of them in the tiny kitchen before raiding. She essentially stole all the carb-heavy things because, of course, neither other Hylerian would dare eat junk. Ugh, even after near death the ‘no-fun’ policy still stuck.

Although…well, she knew Coram cheated on his own rules, had been present to see it happen. Therefore, Desh was _probably_ the most adherent to rules in their group. Why wasn’t he captain? All of his ideas had been great.

She headed for the cockpit, keeping to the shadows first to ensure she didn’t have to deal with both. Desh was alone, thankfully, so she moseyed in with a bag of protein puffs, dropping into the chair beside him at the helm.

“Sup?”

He didn’t look over but did tilt his head. The ship’s drive was pushing them along, the impending void a blur of black smattered with glittering streaks.

“How you feeling?” he asked, focused on their stats. Eyes flicking from the dash to him, then back, Paz popped a couple puffs in her mouth.

“Better, I think. What about you? How’s your nose? You get it reset?”

Desh’s mouth formed a thin line as he shook his head. She couldn’t see the break with his mods but figured it’d now be a permanent fixture behind his mask. Her upper lip curled in a faint smile.

“I wouldn’t have, either. Not breaking it twice just for fun.”

“I’d set yours,” he casually insisted, making her snort. “What, you’re telling me you’d be okay with a crooked nose? Doubtful.”

She did her best not to giggle like an idiot. Okay, yes, _maybe_ she’d assumed Desh was boring and serious and lame this whole time.

“I’ll heal,” he continued, fingers worked over the dash’s many screens. He really was a better pilot than Coram. Honestly, the captain shouldn’t have even gone on this trip all things considered.

And yet deep down she’d been okay with his presence, just a little. Well, until recently.

Look, it was complicated.

Making herself comfortable, Paz lounged and munched away, watching him take them deeper into the void. Never in a million years would she admit to it but Desh was alright, and it wasn’t awkward at all watching him work. He didn’t ask stupid questions and he didn’t carry that same level of disgust as he used to. Honestly she’d never blamed him for that (she’d feel the same) but it was nice knowing they were _sort of_ on a level playing field now. Even Coram, actually, which was…weird. He’d left her alone since their chat and she’d been…fine with that. Yep, totally fine. It was what she’d wanted all along anyway, even if it did feel like he’d just fucking dropped her.

You know, after she’d saved his ass and everything. Ugh, what a dick.

“When we get back,” she said out of nowhere, breaking the comfortable silence, “do you think you could teach me how to like, take someone your size down?”

Desh slid his gaze over to her, one eyebrow raised in question. Paz shrugged, digging deeper into her almost empty bag.

“I mean, I was totally fine kicking Noc’s ass—”

“ _Totally_.”

“—But I was thinking you might have some better ideas than me just biting and kicking.”

He reached to check their averages, hiding his grin at the same time. “Don’t think we’ll have time for that, kid, but it would be a good idea. What, isn’t there anyone on the Osiris who could teach you?”

Mandrelle came to mind, but he likely wouldn’t help her out. Paz mulled it over anyway, imagining Mandrelle likely kicking her ass. She wasn’t going to push Desh if he didn’t want to.

“I guess. Mandrelle’s a beast. He’d—.”

Her stomach clenched at the idea of going home, a feeling of dread taking over. It wasn’t warranted but she couldn’t help it. How…how long would she even be there? No, no, she couldn’t think like that. It wasn’t true. She’d see once she returned to Val.

Glancing over at her paused figure, Desh studied her a second before clearing his throat. “But…I have some free time later. Long as you don’t use it on me we could work on your punch. Doesn’t sound like that’s gotten any better.”

Snapping out of it, Paz willed that anxiety down and forced a small scowl. “Yah, are you—is that pity?”

“Tch, from me?” He huffed, smirking anyway while he went back to his monitors. “As if. Your right hook sucks.”

“I’m not trying to be a boxer,” she bemoaned, making him snicker. “I just—you know, want to make sure I can take someone your size down.”

“But not me,” he confirmed, teasing. The sinking feeling eased in her stomach. She was happy to play along, at least.

“Well, I mean, if I _had_ to.”

“Kid, at least pretend you’d never.”

Holding in a giggle, Paz agreed. “Fine, fine. I’d _never_ try and use it against you. Promise.”

Deep down, however, she had a feeling she’d never need to fight him anyway, not again. She trusted him.

Well, she trusted him enough.


	49. Ch 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paz corners Coram and gets some answers about the whole Nav-holding-Hylerians-captive situation, and maybe more than she actually wanted to know. And (TW) booty, because she can't help herself >:3

A week into their trip home, Coram had finally made contact with the Lakai. Therefore he’d begun spending the majority of his time holed up and catching up on requests, demands, etc.. It was not fun but necessary to keep his crew functioning, so he did what he could. Besides, what else was he going to do for another week? It wasn’t like he could hang out and commiserate with Desh.

Oh no, his second had become best friends with Paz recently, which was not at all what he’d expected out of this trip—quite the opposite, actually. And yet, he was…pleased to see them getting along. Pleased _she_ was getting along with anyone. Even if it wasn’t him. It wouldn’t ever be him, and he’d resigned himself to that fact essentially the moment they left Beta. He was okay with that. He was. It was better than trying to apologize for…oh, _everything_.

So it was difficult when he would venture out his room and accidentally run into Paz because he was trying really hard not to, yet it’d still happen and she’d give him this weird look he didn’t want to try and decipher. Therefore, he shut himself in and focused on work.

Gods, there would be so much to do once they returned, all of which were nothing he wished to tackle. He wanted to zip straight home to Hyleris and grab the last stone key, but…there were other, more important priorities no matter how he felt. The Nav, for one, would be on high alert so it was clearly better to lay low, mods or not. Then there was Rahm and apparently Sandova to deal with. They would not be pleased to hear he was free because they probably knew who freed him. There were many reasons they’d be pissed about that, and he had no doubt Sandova would try and hunt him down.

Ergo, it was best to push Paz back to Val before Sandova could try and recruit—with firepower. Val was no better, absolutely no better, but…he’d promised Paz she’d go back. Maybe he _had_ made a mistake. He’d fucked up on everything else so perhaps his information had been wrong, alright?

He doubted it. Paz, however, was creative. She’d figure shit out on her own. He couldn’t—wouldn’t do it for her, and he doubted she’d ever want his help again. He’d already tried and that’d been a disaster for way too many reasons.

So this was for the best. Yes, go their separate ways and pretend it’d never happened. Tell Sandova to fuck off when she eventually did come sniffing around. Begin testing absom in raids on Nav ships in isolated areas, and start moving shipments out to raise credit flow. Follow leads on who else might have a Hylerian in their midst, or within a colony or mining operation. Last he’d been told a few from Karkinos’ death row were supposed to be moved into Nav hands soon, so someone needed to intercept that. Maybe he’d go with. Maybe he’d start wearing this face just to piss off the Nav when they couldn’t catch him. They wouldn’t—he’d never be that stupid again.

He shoved that notion down, pushing back into his work.

It wasn’t that stimulating regardless, not this evening—morning, night, whatever. Currently on the floor, (and comfortable enough to be wearing only sweats) with a mess of handwritten notes lain out before him, he didn’t have much input for the time being. The Lakai handled itself well with or without him, a reassuring thing even if it did deem him useless sometimes.

He’d been staring at all his notes so long they hardly made sense and his ass was numb which indicated he should get up and do something. But what? He’d rather stay in here and never leave until they rejoined the others. He really—really didn’t want to deal with Paz, alright? It’d been a mistake, all of it, and he felt… _bad_. Never in a million years would he admit it but he didn’t _like_ being the bad guy. If he hadn’t come on so strong then maybe—

Ugh, enough. He’d already spent months stewing over this shit. No more.

Legs straightening over his notes, he leaned back against his bed’s metal storage cupboards. One hand reached into his sweatpants pocket to slowly pull out the black stone. Holding it in his lap, he fingered the somehow smooth sides, studying it yet again. He’d received it several days ago from Desh, who said Paz had forgotten to return it until now.

Right. He’d seen how she utilized it, how it’d done something, even if he wasn’t sure what. It didn’t do anything for him. He knew it held a certain type of…energy, he supposed, but it didn’t interact with him. And yet in her hands it woke up like some kind of living thing. How come it—

“Stop it,” he growled at himself, pissed he kept thinking about her. It didn’t help. Turning the stone over he tried looking for a pattern in its divots, a clue or idea as to how it might fit with the other. The third he knew was much like the first two, but instead of quartz or onyx it was, or should’ve been, a garish green tourmaline. He’d retrieve it, soon. Someone would; he was already thinking up candidates on board. And then he’d figure out how they opened up Hyleris. Lakai was the gateway, he knew that, remembered its lackluster hills and dead earth, but…

_Intent matters_. What the fuck did that mean? Paz’s alien friend could’ve been more specific. And, if they’d stayed he could’ve convinced Guinto to help him, but no, that’d been a bust, too. Tch, for all he knew she’d made it up.

Yet he knew, in his heart, she hadn’t. The Nas, the Krakat…he’d never heard of these groups but they made sense with what little information he did know. He’d—

That agonizingly delicious sense of familiarity pushed around him and he looked up to the door just a couple meters ahead. The room went silent; he couldn’t hear anything out in the hall, either. Coram stared, unmoving, waiting for it to go away. He’d spent _months_ feeling that sensation until it’d finally dawned on him what it was, and he hated that he liked it. He only needed to deal with it for a little longer, then it’d be gone for good and he’d never have to deal with it again.

But it didn’t go away, not this time. It just…lingered, right in his periphery, making his insides churn with…want. Fuck, he wasn’t going to get up and open the door. He wasn’t. It’d ruin everything. He could last a little longer.

The softest of knocks easily broke his will however and he was up and off the floor in a hot second, shoving the stone back in his pocket and kicking sheets of paper to one corner. Gods-fucking-damnit, he hated that he couldn’t stop himself.

He cracked the door open, Paz’s mildly frustrated face coming into view. Their eyes met briefly before she looked down to her bare feet, sucking on her teeth in consternation. She clearly had no idea why she’d come either, which made him want to slam the partition shut.

“What’s up?” he asked instead, careful to keep his face neutral and composed. No fucking up. No more. He could do this.

Paz was quiet a moment longer before taking a deep breath. “I—.” Her head quirked one way and she frowned as she glanced first to his naked torso then focused at his hip. “You’re carrying it around?”

“Yep,” he confirmed, pushing himself to be brief. “And?”

She blinked, those pretty eyes drawing to his face, mouth parting as she looked him over. It took her a second to get back on track. “Ah, whatever. Um.” She took a step backward, feet twisting together, cheeks and neck staining with color. “Never mind.”

Was it terrible that his heart was pounding, pulse fluttering as he debated asking her to come inside? To maybe talk, maybe…maybe do more? Ye, it was terrible. Fuck. He ground his jaw, forbidding the words to leave his soul.

She started to leave but stopped, fists clenching at her side like she _had_ to say something. Predictably, her focus flitted to anywhere that wasn’t him. She was just as good at doing that as he was.

“I just—.” It was almost painful watching her try and figure out what to say. “I mean, can we…talk?”

“We’re talking right now.” Gods, he fucking hated how that came out. She hated it too since she glowered, then turned to stomp off. He should’ve left it at that, should’ve let her stay pissed, but as fucked up as it was he didn’t…didn’t want her pissed with him.

One hand shot out, knocking against hers before she could go far. “Ye.” When she turned fiery eyes to him he added, “Sorry. Of course we can talk. Come in.”

It took a lot of effort not to shudder as her pupils dilated, not so subtly glancing over his shoulder and into the tiny room he’d claimed. She obviously hadn’t thought she’d get this far, either. Gods, it killed him. He shouldn’t have…shouldn’t have been so stupid.

_Say no, say no, say no,_ he silently begged, thinking it’d work. It didn’t. She nodded slightly, swallowed, and stepped in soon as he moved out the way. And, because he had a feeling this should be private, he stuck his head out into the hall to ensure Desh hadn’t seen.

Then he slid the door shut and stayed right there, nose to the partition. He’d be on his best behavior. He would. He’d show no weakness. He was sober—he could do this.

Paz did a quick survey of the room as he slowly turned around to lean on the door. Her focus found the floor again and of course she honed in on his hastily stashed notes. She frowned, looked away and sighed. “Mm. So glad I nabbed the captain’s quarters. The ceiling opens up to the stars and this one…” She tilted her chin, tutting in disappointment. “Does not.”

He crossed both arms over his chest. Why she’d chosen to wear no bra to this chat was beyond him, and he did his best to not think about how soft—

“If you’re here to rub it in then don’t worry; I’m already jealous. Your work’s cut out for you.”

That took her attention off the mess and brought a sly grin to her face. He liked her smile, had liked it since he’d first met her. It was sharp and wide and fit her so perfectly. He’d seen it that night, too, a week or so ago. He’d seen it and stupidly thought it couldn’t be hers but some things stayed the same no matter what one tried to change.

It dissipated in the moment. She twisted to face him fully, hands clasped together at her waist.

“I was wondering…” She stopped again. Coram almost scratched his skull, confused. She never had trouble with her words—far as he knew she had no filter. He ducked his head, trying to look less intimidating. Sometimes it worked, usually when his mods were up but he hadn’t yet rolled those on.

She tottered back to sit on the edge of his bed. _His bed_.

“I don’t believe you,” she finally choked out in a whisper. “I don’t. But…if there’s _any_ chance maybe someone _did_ want to sell me to the Nav, do you…do you think I’d end up in a tank?”

Her worry was near palpable, and he almost laughed. Thank the stars he didn’t. Careful to keep that sullen mask, Coram pretended to give it some real thought before shrugging. He’d assumed the same until he’d seen Noc cry at the sight of her, and then everything had made sense: who’d sought her out, who’d offered to buy her. The Nav wouldn’t deign to buy anyone when they could just _take_ with the right justification.

He couldn’t address her, not when she was staring like he’d give her an answered he couldn’t truthfully offer.

“I don’t think that’d be the first place they’d put you,” he finally remarked, voice low, thoughtful. Desh obviously couldn’t hear but it was still such an ugly response. She let the words sink in, mouth a thin, tense line.

“Okay. And…you think this because of Noc? You know all the Hylerians, ye? Who is he?”

Despite thinking others thought she was stupid, Coram knew she absorbed information well when she wished to. He dug his shoulder blades into the door, focusing above her head. “He’s…he left our cause a long time ago. The Nav made him a great deal, apparently, with him being there and all—probably gives them information in order to keep walking. I think…think you know who he is, so…ye. I do think he’d try and protect you, at least.”

“We’re related,” she guessed in a whisper, body tensing when he offered a curt not. “How?”

“Your father’s…brother.”

Anyone else he would’ve expected to freak out, but not Paz. Not the girl who’d so adamantly refused to deal with that aspect of herself. He personally thought it’d hinder her in the long run but…he wasn’t here to make further decisions for her. Any he’d already made hadn’t done her any good.

Paz held still, then swallowed and shrugged. It was like she’d literally ate those feelings and moved on. “Okay. So, theoretically, there’s a good chance I could escape if—if it ever _did_ happen. Okay.”

He didn’t try and argue, sure she’d thought about this a lot if she’d share it with him. “Yep. If it ever did, manipulate him best you can. Convince him you could help or whatever, then the first chance you have you get out.”

Her jaw jutted one way, thoughtful. “Do you…actually know what they’re doing with us?”

Did she actually want to have this conversation? He didn’t, especially not when she was sitting on his bed looking at him like he held all the answers. He had to remain at the door. Preferably farther away, but never closer.

“Ye,” he answered, one leg restlessly bouncing. “You want the long or short version?”

“I want the truth,” she baldly retorted, each word clipped. He obliged, exhaling heavily. Least this’d kill any unwarranted feelings.

“Okay. So…because of the environment we were raised in, our raw genetic material is a little different from the Federation’s.”

“They put their genes in us,” Paz corrected, reminding him of what she’d been told. While _she_ believed it, he was still processing the idea that an entirely different species had infused their raw DNA into his own people. He nodded regardless.

“Ye, that. At any rate, there are certain enzymes we carry that make it possible to withstand harsh environments. Mainly, Andromeda’s environments. Fed people don’t have it, and haven’t processed it normally since they arrived in the Great Migration. At some point they likely realized they needed something like it to survive, so they…they’ve been synthesizing it from us ever since.”

He paused, if only because she looked like she was piecing something together in her head. She didn’t say what, though, so he went on, well aware any explanation only grew worse.

“Synthesis occurs when they extract and purify the enzymes, along with a protein found in our blood. That compound is then solidified, dried, ground up, and used as an additive in Federation food and agriculture. Think of it like…fertilizer. The Federation ingests the compound, their body absorbs it like a supplement, and then their bodies are better able to withstand the environments they inhabit. The only silver lining to this extraction is the supplement acts nothing like it does within us, although…I don’t really know if it excuses how they’ve decided to use us.”

She looked like she was going to be sick. Like, violently. Coram stopped, watching her go through a full array of emotions in just a few seconds. Should he…he didn’t know what he’d do if she vomited right now.

But she swallowed whatever she’d wound through, arms tightly clutching at her sides, just like before. At least she hadn’t screamed ‘ _I’m eating people_?!’ which was what he’d done and promptly retched. That’d been…years ago, and if it’d gotten any better it’d be laughable but it hadn’t so it wasn’t.

“That’s why they…they were looking for us,” she finally guessed, shuddering. “Why they ‘found’ Hyleris. They ran out, didn’t they?”

He…

Coram paused, letting that idea rattle around his head. What’d she’d told them, about Guinto, about the original species…there’d been a group who’d disappeared. That was what she’d told them previously. A group of real Hylerians who’d…never returned. He’d always assumed the Nav had been extrapolating it from other flora before mining Hyleris. What if…

He scrubbed at his face with one palm, too surprised to really imagine it. No, he’d run that by Desh. Later. See what he thought.

“That very well could be the case,” he eventually murmured, hating that he now had to legitimately consider this ugly truth.

“And we can’t do anything about it,” she went on, face gaining an irritated tinge, “because we look like the bad guys and they need this shit to survive. But…man, there’s got to be something else, ye?”

While he appreciated her enthusiasm he did have to point out what a turn-around she’d just made. Seriously, he couldn’t let such an opportunity go by. “Thought we _were_ the bad guys.”

She blinked up at him, completely serious. “Ah, compared to everyone else, you are. It’s—it’s a bit more complicated than what I thought, though, and I don’t exactly appreciate the things I’ve seen.” Her scowl returned while she jabbed a finger his way. “If you made me do all this _just_ to show me what’s going on—”

“I didn’t,” he automatically snapped, because that was at least true. Not even in his wildest dreams could he have imagined things going this way. He’d never intended exposing her to their problems, not in this way. If she’d been _interested_ , then hell yes. But she hadn’t so…fuck, he didn’t want to introduce _anyone_ to their depressing reality, not by shoving it in their face. “I didn’t.”

“Then what was this all for?” she demanded, staring daggers into him now. It was incredibly uncomfortable no matter how much of a right she had to ask. Coram wished he could bark at her to get out—go bug Desh or something. His heart pounded harder, insides squeezing with worry instead.

_Tell her. Just fucking tell her. She already knows, she just needs to…needs to hear it_.

“Because,” he softly answered with a huff, attention dropping to the floor. “I couldn’t…couldn’t just leave…you, there. Not after we…”

The universe could crumble and he still wouldn’t be able to admit the rest of that. It was literally the worst reason he’d ever pursued anything and he couldn’t…couldn’t explain it, not even to himself.

Instead of screaming, however, he heard her fists tighten on the bedspread.

“You felt it?” she quietly asked, cringing, cleaving something deep within his soul he wished he’d never felt. “Even…then?”

He also wished she hadn’t said that, because that was acknowledgment. That was…fuck, he’d been pushing away from this for so long, and even if she _did_ feel what he felt, it didn’t make it right. He’d still fucked up.

Back out. He had to back out and keep that distance before that crack split apart even further. Just deny everything. He could do that.

“If anything happens,” he hurriedly moved on, pretending she hadn’t said anything, “you take advantage of everything you can, alright? No matter what it is. Don’t show your face if you can help it, that’ll be the best defense you’ll have.”

On the bed, _his_ bed, she frowned harder. “That’s not—”

“Doesn’t matter how you do it,” he cut her off, pulse skyrocketing. He didn’t—she needed to leave. He needed space. He couldn’t deal with this, with her, because it made him stupid. So stupid. “Just do it. Stay free as you can, from whoever. You’re smart. You’ll figure it out.”

Silence filled the cabin while she bit her lower lip and cast a glare at his closet. That’d hurt her, the dismissal, but he couldn’t _do_ anything else. Nothing would help. Despite that he didn’t want to see her upset so like the idiot he was he apologized, awkwardly running a hand over short hair.

“I’m sorry. I don’t—I can’t keep fucking up, Topaz.”

The laugh she uttered was bitter. She slid off the bed, clenched hands at her side. “Okay. Fine. I get it. Thanks for the…clarification, I guess.”

He sidestepped without another word, opening the door while he was at it. Paz smoothly slipped out into the hall, storming eyes faced forward like he didn’t exist. That was fine. Good. He trusted her senses more than his, knew she had a better constitution when it came to holding grudges. She’d hate him forever, which was better than the alternative. He’d deal with it. The ache to touch her, to taste, to just _see_ her would go away.

He slammed the partition so she wouldn’t have to, remaining right there with his forehead on the cool surface, thoughts racing. He hadn’t meant what he said. He didn’t know why he couldn’t just… Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ he wanted to apologize more. He wanted to do a lot of things but that was the problem—he hadn’t earned the right to even think of her. Let her go. He had to let her go, demonstrate she’d been absolutely correct not to trust him. Send her home with compensation and pretend it hadn’t happened.

That familiarity hadn’t gone anywhere. Coram could feel her alluring presence only a meter or two away, just…standing there, silent. Why she was still there? Gods, this was torture. He wasn’t going to call her back, or follow her. He wasn’t. He was going to turn around and get back to…back to work.

His forehead pulsed as he ground his skull into the door. Maybe…

Slowly, so slowly, he slid back the partition. Paz stood right beyond, appearing just as pained as he did. He didn’t—fuck, he froze, unsure what to do now. Seriously, he’d never planned any of this and now she was standing there, tantalizingly within reach. _Why_ had he opened the door? He shouldn’t have done that. This was stupid, and he was making it worse. His fingers twitched on the door’s little handle, ready to once again apologize and shut it in her face.

But he didn’t. Couldn’t, not when her eyelids shuddered as she hissed, “Please. I wouldn’t tell anyone, I swear. I know I’m not—.”

He pulled her inside before she could finish, because there wasn’t anything she could say that’d change his mind and also because whatever she was about to say wasn’t true. She was perfect in his opinion, even if he was too much of a pussy to say so.

Least Paz wasn’t paying attention. She swung in and the door snicked shut, cramming them both together in the entrance. Hip to thigh, Coram wrapped one arm around her waist and held her there, head angled to better study her nervous, frustrated features. Seconds ticked by, each one agonizingly slow and driving him insane. She was lost in his bare chest, which was cute, but not nearly what he wanted her currently looking at.

He wanted her to look at _him_ , to somehow understand what he was feeling without actually saying so. But…no one in the entire universe could do that so he pushed himself to say something, anything to convince her to look up. It wasn’t articulate, wasn’t even good.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, _so_ bad at this, and I don’t want to screw it up more, and I know it was wrong but—”

She reached up, hands pulling Coram down closer while she stood on her tip-toes. He couldn’t refuse the quick, soft kiss she offered nor would he want to. Instead, his grip tightened around her hip, ducking lower, mouth opening up for her. It wasn’t fair, they both knew it, but there it was, this need to have, to hold, to explore, to…give.

The ship melted into nothingness, a heady sense of completeness enveloping them. Taking her lead, Coram first gingerly pushed her backside into the door with his powerful thighs, pressure quickly increasing when she moaned into his mouth.

Fuck. He wasn’t stopping, not if she wasn’t. She’d be gone in a week anyway; what did it really matter? Beside his sanity, he couldn’t think of a good reason to stop.

And she obviously felt the same, practically climbing him with both legs wrapping around his to gain some leverage. Coram helped, hoisting her higher, squeezing her ass in the process because he’d thought a lot about it and really, _really_ wanted to touch it again. Touch _her_. Yes, he wanted to touch her all over. She didn’t _know_ how hard he’d tried ignoring her, tried to not think of that crack that’d formed in his soul the first time they went to bed, to keep her at arm’s length and pretend this was all strictly business.

She didn’t know how pissed he’d been on her behalf to hear how the Osiris utilized her, to learn how _encouraged_ her inebriation was in their care, to know she’d _happily_ accepted the stereotypical role of their people because it was the only role available. Gods, just—everything about her had driven him crazy in varying degrees and today…today he couldn’t stop himself, not when she was writhing against him, mouth seared to his, arms tight around his neck like he might drop her.

He’d never, not like this.

He did swing her around though, staggering the three or four steps to bed and dumping her on her back, crawling right over her in the process. The last time they’d been like this was an outlier. It’d been lotus fueled (and huasca in his case, and oblivion. It’d been a wild night) and fuck if he hadn’t immensely enjoyed that but this…this wasn’t the same. Here, he felt drunk—off her.

Paz didn’t mind. Oh no, she was busy yanking off her top and scooting until she was lined up right underneath him, those brilliant eyes focused only on him. In between her movements he pressed his lips to her skin, her chest, her neck, forehead…anywhere he could think of. It earned him a breathless smile, one that warmed even his bones. Lost for a moment, he merely let his dark gaze rove over her beautiful body, scars and all, her presence overwhelming.

Fuck consequences. There were none so far as he could recall.

Pausing in her squirming, Paz locked eyes with him, dusty blue meeting and holding what was her namesake. The little pants she made were music to Coram’s ears, and he lowered a little to better view the markings on her skin. He couldn’t get enough of her, not in the slightest.

And then she tentatively set a palm along his jaw. He tensed, wanting to lean into her touch but refraining. She was studying _him_ , memorizing his face, his real face. Part of him wanted to retreat to the safety of mods, yet he didn’t dare move or look away. He just…he could stare at her for ages. That was probably weird, but he didn’t care.

Carefully, her thumb stretched to flutter over his flat nose. She stroked down the bridge and it felt like he was in a dream. His eyelids lowered, fully relaxing. He’d collapse right on top of her if he was a lesser person.

“I keep on thinking about you,” she whispered, focusing on those lowered lids. “I hate it, but I can’t stop and I don’t know why. I just…want you, and it’s driving me nuts. I won’t say anything, okay? Just, please— _please_ let me have this. Please.”

Gods, to hear her beg… He dipped his head, almost in prayer, until their foreheads nearly touched.

“Shh. It’s okay. I don’t care. I—same. Just, everything. Same.”

Not that romantic, he knew, but it got his point across. Automatically it was like she visibly relaxed, like a huge relief had poured through her body and soul. Coram finally did collapse, falling to her side and tangling his legs with hers. One hand fell to her backside, stroking along the gentle curve between her hips and ribcage. Anything she’d allow he wanted. Anything.

He found himself caught up simply eyeing her which was both embarrassing yet satisfying. Her teeth flashed, distracting him just long enough to forget he was stalling. His hand jerked into movement, fingers tracing up her shoulder, her neck, and tangling in that silvery hair of hers. She nearly melted into the sheets as he pulled locks from her face, and he knew right then he could do so forever and never tire. The purr that emanated from her chest…fuck, he loved it.

Drawing her into his embrace, he ducked again to set gentle, wandering kisses along the seam of her lips. Those kisses deepened until he was practically on top of her once more, pressing between her legs in a sordid attempt to prove to her how interested he was, sucking on her skin like it was all that mattered. Both her legs hooked over his hips, nothing subtle at all about her heat rubbing into his cock. It woke him up in a way he couldn’t deny, and in one fluid motion he rose up to first shuck off the shorts she’d decided to wear, then maneuvered until she was spread before him in offering. Paz wasn’t shy at all, not right now. He lowered beyond his knees, strong hands gripping both her thighs while his head disappeared. A nimble tongue first teased her lower lips, parting them the second he tasted her. Gods, he buried his tongue, entirely absorbed in her core and exploring every inch of her.

Above him Paz jerked, muscles tensing up in quick succession. He took great pleasure in her quivering, arms rising above her head to grab onto a pillow and shove it over her flushed, beautiful face. He would’ve begged her not to hide but it was a good idea.

When she came, gushing onto his tongue, her cries were hardly muffled. Chest heaving, she had to roll over to convince him to stop and even then he still lapped over her lips, generously ensuring she was properly worshipped. In the throes of euphoria she enjoyed the attention while her body cooled down, reeling from this kind of assault.

Coram had to admit he’d never…it’d never been this way, not for him. Yes, of course, like any other Hylerian he couldn’t _ignore_ his internal desires and motivations, especially when there was nothing else to keep him busy, but that’d been different. This was…consuming. Mind-numbing. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to know if it meant anything. He just…he wanted to wrap himself around her, in her, until he got it out of his system.

Paz begged for it, too, the instant she’d recovered. Her moans filtered down to him, demanding more, suddenly very insistent about using ‘please’. He didn’t stop her, not when she clamored to her knees, eyelids heavy with lust as she looked over his sprawled figure.

He certainly didn’t protest when she coaxed him to his back, extracted his cock from his sweats, and promptly straddled him. The lovely face she made as he filled her to the brim drove him up the wall and he couldn’t help himself, enjoying the view while she rode him—hard. It was like she was just as starved, like something had broken her restraint and could not be leashed. Fuck, he’d never complain, not now.

His hips met hers, fingers probably bruising her thighs he held on so tight. Their harried panting filled the room. She was apparently trying to suck the soul out of him which was encouraged between dizzy gasps. If she heard he didn’t know nor care; she was busy working herself up to another peak, a beautiful thing to witness as he helped slam her up and down. Gods, everything about her stole his focus—her pout, the sweat making her skin glisten, the way her full tits bobbled just out of reach, her body hunching in on itself as her insides coiled and tightened…

He pushed upright, using her hip for leverage, and grabbing one of those luscious tits to draw it to his mouth,teeth out.

She screamed. In the best way, of course. And then she collapsed around him, clinging as her muscles broke, control leaving her body. Coram couldn’t help groaning in satisfaction—she felt _divine_ around his cock, her inner walls swollen and pulsing and fuck he was so close, _so_ close. But he couldn’t—he wasn’t leaving it like this.

Keeping her close he dropped back to bed and lay her across his chest and right shoulder. One hand worked into her hair, the other soothing up and down her shivering back. Still sheathed within her, he slowed his roll and gave her time to ride out her wave. She didn’t move in the slightest, loose-limbed and pliant, though her heart pounded right into his.

Nose nudging at an ear he whispered sweet praise, her name mingled in between. Each time he uttered it he could feel her physically melt. When he thought she couldn’t go any deeper he gingerly rotated them around until she lay on her back amidst his sheets, her tan skin glowing in bliss. To keep it that way he pulled himself over her one final time, increasing his speed from a gentle pulse to deeper, stronger strokes in quick succession. By that point Paz’s eyes had rolled back, just like her neck, and she goaded him on, _his_ name frequently spilling from her lips. He’d never cared to hear it, never thought much of it, but when it came from her…Gods, he didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to let her go, didn’t want to lose this… _thing_ , whatever it was.

Fuck. He didn’t want to lose it.

He’d wanted to push her to another orgasm but couldn’t help himself. His cock erupted and he swore, ripping out and spilling himself across the beautiful canvas of her skin. In a daze, he leaned back on his heels and caught his breath, fondly looking her over one more time. She appeared beat, yet completely satiated. He took pride knowing he’d caused that.

And, somewhere in the coherent part of his brain, he shot a ping back to Desh telling him to mind his own business because he had asked about a scream but Coram didn’t have the patience or energy to explain. Not yet. Later, when she went—home.

His throat locked up a little and he swallowed hard, ignoring that stark fact. Instead, he dropped beside her, body buzzing with a natural high. Casually wiping herself off with a sheet, Paz turned inward toward him, legs curling close to her chest. Blank eyes stared into his torso, though he knew she wasn’t studying the tattoo there. He didn’t care anyway. Any pretense of work was forgotten. He just wanted to—

“How much longer until we hit the Lakai?” she murmured, looking half asleep what with slit lids. One finger reached out to trace along his tattoo—maybe she had been looking. Coram stilled regardless, happy to have her touching him. In the meantime he tried putting together a good sentence, one that wouldn’t trip up his broken state of consciousness.

“Couple more days, at least. Depends how quickly we can jump through Ruslan.”

She was quiet for some time, fingertip pausing over his sternum. A soft sigh finally escaped her mouth. “Oh. Maybe…I mean, if you wanted, we could do this a couple more times. You know, before I…”

It was clear she didn’t want to finish that so he nodded in agreement. He knew what she meant. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss into her hair.

“Course. Whatever you want,” he offered, voice so loud when it was just between them. He tried not to sound too eager. “However you want to do it.”

One corner of her mouth lazily twitched upward. “I won’t say a word, promise. I know it’d look bad—”

“Shh,” he further hushed, dipping lower to get at her soft, wonderful lips. One hand burrowed in her hair, a comfortable spot for them both. “I _am_ captain. Nobody gets to question what I do.”

That smile grew, just a little. Hoping to appease her he kept going, though he didn’t know why. It wasn’t like she’d demanded much more than physical affection.

“It stays between us. No strings or whatever. Promise.”

“Friends with benefits,” she breathily concluded, chuckling before folding closer to him. Coram forced himself to grunt in agreement. Nothing would come out of this no matter how he felt. Besides, she was leaving. Might as well savor what he could. These weird feelings would stop. They would.

Reaching around her back, he pulled her flush and tucked her crown under his chin. Friends with benefits. He’d done it before. Easy.

So easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw ye, she got the booty ;)
> 
> A/N: As of 5/25/20 this story's 20 chapters ahead right now in its rough draft form. I like to try and stick around that buffer so plots and ideas can ruminate, and in case something needs to be fixed I can do so, so anyway, this is just my long-winded way of saying posting 1 time per week is what I'll be doing for the time being. Thanks :)


	50. Ch 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew rejoins the Lakai and Paz is reunited with some special guests :3

-Beifan Quadrant, M47-

The next week was probably the best Paz could recall in a while. Not for anything life-changing or whatnot, but she was incredibly excited about meeting up with the Lakai, already imagining her goodbyes for when she finally departed. There was also the fact she was getting some good fighting tips in from Desh, who kindly helped her out in the halls since they were short on space. In his defense, he reasoned it was better that way, especially if she was ever in tight quarters. She believed it.

And then there was the sex. Holy fuck, she’d never been so carnally satisfied in her life, and by the end of the week she didn’t care if Desh knew—he’d probably figured it out pretty easily. Whatever. Minus the bit where she was, yes, a little nervous about the future, she was having a blast in a way only a Hylerian might find fulfilling.

Seriously, she loved it. If she wasn’t in bed (or against the wall or in the washroom) with Coram then Desh was setting her up to better maintain her autonomy in future skirmishes, because knowing her, those would obviously happen. Her body as a whole was being thoroughly worked, leaving little room for thinking which was currently her personal enemy.

Overthinking was what made her panic in the first place about returning to Osiris. It’d made her stupid and easily influenced and now she was using Coram in all possible ways to distract herself from what would inevitably come. Not that he minded, and neither did she. Not at all. He was… _mmm_ , just the best kind of lover, and she hadn’t the faintest idea why. He just was. Internally she’d already pushed past all grievances, deciding their little deal was fine so long as the captain left her blissed out and boneless.

Ye, she was just as surprised about her lack of resolve, but sometimes there were better things to focus on.

Besides, when they weren’t fucking she was absorbing any advice he had regarding the Nav for future encounters, as well as detailing the history of Hyleris per what he’d been told. It mostly went in one ear and out the other but she was trying. She never asked about the stone pillars; those weren’t her business any longer, but it did sound like they’d open something. Whatever he did with them, she hoped it’d be worth it, _intent_ and whatnot.

When it came time to part she’d decided she would leave the captain with a kiss and a quick ‘good luck’—slightly dramatic but easy to move on from. It wasn’t like she carried any feelings for him anyway.

Really, she didn’t, okay? Their business was strictly physical and they both knew it. Obviously.

In between both their, ah…teachings, Paz spent the rest of her time pondering two specific things. One, she wanted to know how to avoid consuming Federation foods, but it was practically impossible unless she was growing her own produce which…well, she didn’t have the resources, knowledge, or space to do. Coram advised her not to think about it since it was pointless. One day it might be different, but not today. She did not accept that answer but it was the only answer they had, and no matter how much she resented the Lakai for not doing anything about it she…well, she didn’t have a good idea to fix that particular issue, either.

Secondly, she wasn’t sure what to do with her comm—er, Kamul’s comm. After days of not believing her, Desh finally examined the comm lodged in the back of her throat. Smart as he was he had no idea what to do with it or turn it off short of tearing it out. She’d sort of figured that’d be the only way to remove it, but then she began wondering if the two systems could converge. Thus, she’d asked him to try and restart her original comm. Desh wasn’t having it though, citing Aim would be better at it, or even Sentia once she returned to Osiris. They’d only fucked with their own comms because there’d been no other choice.

So what if it wasn’t possible to have two, or she couldn’t remove Kamul’s comm and ensuing biometrics? That was dangerous, wasn’t it? The Nav probably didn’t want a Kamul running around. Probably wouldn’t be too happy should they ever find Guinto, either.

She’d been on highway networks; she’d seen enough news vids. Coram was free courtesy of a Kamul whom they refused to show her face but listed her biometrics and use of a Lady Virgo mod. They wanted both, heavy bounties for each, dead or alive. Oh, also the Nav was stressing shipments and all other travel be limited to gateways and highways in the main quadrants. Anything else needed to be cleared first with the Federation.

She had an idea why they may be asking this but didn’t want to think about Guinto, just like her—ugh—uncle, apparently (or father), her comm, Hylerian matter being incorporated in food, or whatever else lay ahead. Instead she tried focusing on the positives. She’d see Sam soon. That…that was about it, but it kept her from sinking too deep. Coram prevented that sinking even further with his dick.

And damn, he was really, _really_ good at keeping her occupied. Paz didn’t know how he was getting any work done. Not that she cared. She just liked snuggling up within his strong, tight embrace, melting while he stroked her hair, falling apart in his assured grip, and worshipping him in return. Every muscle, every inch of him drove her to a point of need she hadn’t quite figured out how to avoid, nor did she want to, not yet. So long as there was time, she was going to enjoy what she could.

After one of those incredibly enjoyable sessions she took her time unfurling from the captain, then left him dozing in her room to go find Desh. He was in the cockpit like usual, keeping them on course. Joining him in the chair to his right, she blearily stared out their dash at the black void. They’d jumped into Beifan several hours ago, its binary red giants looking like two dim beacons amidst the blackness.

A small thought in the back of her head reminded her Val liked these kinds of quadrants: empty and vast save for guarding giants. They’d been through before, once or twice, while dealing with mass shipments for…Fiala’s clients. Ugh, she didn’t want to recall those trips, or Fiala.

“Any minute now,” Desh calmly stated, checking their stats on his left once more. She watched him do so out the corner of her eye, always mystified by how much he needed to pay attention to in order to ensure things ran smoothly. There was a reason she could only fly the most basic of rigs, and she was not ashamed to admit that. This shit was complicated.

Sliding in her chair, Paz kicked both legs over an armrest. “How’s it feel, finally going home?” Because to her it felt like it’d been forever.

“Good,” he calmly answered without missing a beat, gaze focused on a monitor above them. “Weird, but good. Haven’t been gone this long in a while.”

“Really?” She’d sort of thought he’d be doing a lot of Coram’s dirty work. He smirked, but didn’t elaborate, leading her to slide further with a sigh. Just because they were friendly didn’t mean he was going to confide in her. Especially not after she’d drunk all their tequila on her own. That’d been his favorite, and she now knew he definitely wasn’t as straight-laced as she thought. Or maybe they’d all just really needed something to take the edge of this trip. Too bad she’d found the stash first.

“What about you?” he asked some time later, after she’d nearly dozed off from sheer exhaustion. When she’d slid out of bed her hips and legs shook, but in the best way. Sleepily turning his question over, Paz shrugged.

“Excited. It’s…all I wanted. Back home with my crew—my family.”

She knew he was rolling his eyes as he inquired, “You even have a bed on the Osiris?”

“I—.” Her bristles lowered as she shut her mouth. Sam’s bed _was_ her bed. She’d forfeited her quarters to Lonyn when the pilot entered their crew, preferring Sam’s room anyway. So no, maybe she didn’t have her own but that didn’t mean anything. Why was he still trying to get in her head?

“Pretty sure everyone saw where I slept,” she daintily grumbled, running fingers through her tangled hair. It didn’t come close to when Coram did it. Had Sam ever done that? Maybe he should. “Dude, you know you can’t sway me. I wish you all luck on your mission or whatever, but I’ve got other things to worry about.”

Desh returned her shrug, focus having never left the controls. “If they ever kick you out—”

“They won’t.”

“If they ever _do_ , keep my contact.”

Quiet, Paz didn’t bother replying. _His_ contact. No their’s, not Coram’s. Just his. She’d keep both if she could. Coram’s she already had in her own comm, she was pretty sure of that. She started to ask why but a glance his way made her pause. He’d stiffened, eyes twitching. He was on his comm, and definitely not in their group ping.

Tch, he wouldn’t be any fun for a bit. She fiddled with her nails (a few had been broken on Beta and were now finally starting to round out), thoughts meandering, until a door banged open from elsewhere on the ship. Quick, heavy footsteps followed. Head dropping over the other armrest, she patiently blinked at the cockpit’s exit until Coram appeared, hastily tucking in his shirt and looking just as beautifully disheveled as when she’d left him.

She couldn’t help grinning fiendishly, though when his eyes met hers he didn’t return the smile. Oh no, suddenly he was back in business mode, her least favorite, unsmiling and serious as could be. Well, guess she’d wipe that look off his face later.

“Go get your stuff,” he ordered at her, tentatively stepping closer. “Backpack, gun—whatever else. Lakai’s in proximity.”

Or not. They were already close to rejoining the Lakai? No wonder Desh looked the way he did. Staying right where she was but looking forward, Paz frowned at the void. Aside from a clusters of asteroids and the red giants, she saw nothing.

“Where are they?”

“Nearby,” the captain curtly answered, drawing to Desh’s shoulder and scanning logistics. They both murmured to one another and at this point she might as well have been invisible. Somehow bitter over that, Paz reconsidered how she’d leave them, huffing as she slid out her seat and made for her room.

Her pulse fluttered on the way, a dozen emotions coursing through her at once. Ye, she was thrilled about leaving, but…things had just started getting good. She was to blame for not playing along previously, she understood that, but it was strange knowing she’d be back on her own in just a little bit before finally heading home.

What kind of ship would they give her? How quickly would she find Val? How pissed was Val going to be? Very, very pissed, most likely. She’d be happy to have Paz back, Paz knew that, but Val…sometimes had a weird way of showing that. Sam was worth it though. No matter what, she wanted to see Sam. Wanted to ensure he was okay. If things…if things did end up sinking she had some tricks up her sleeve. Didn’t mean she wanted to poison and claw her way to freedom, but she was ready.

Man, Coram could’ve at least looked sad. He was busy, fine, but still. She…

She was _not_ going miss him, or the Lakai, or anything about this miserable trip. That was bullshit. Just because she’d gotten comfortable didn’t mean his stupidity could be forgotten, or forgiven. Just because he had a nice dick and made her insides all melty meant _nothing_. Incensed, she shut herself in her room to begin packing, ignoring the rumpled sheets half hanging from her bed.

In her backpack went all the souvenirs that’d survived from Alpha, along with her knife and some things she’d liked aboard this ship. Honestly there wasn’t much else to pack. She figured she’d leave her rifle with the Lakai, if only because it was useless, and dead weight. Actually, most of it they could keep. Maybe she should just leave as she was. It’d be easier. And, if she were somehow caught en route there’d be less evidence. Ye, maybe that was a better idea.

Pausing near the bed she eyed the starry ceiling. This was it. She was finally going home. With some new organs and a couple near-death experiences, sure, but she was still whole. And she’d experienced Beta, which hadn’t been at all like she’d expected. She’d even taken down Fiala, something Val had to be pleased about. This was good. Like, _so_ good.

So why was there a stupid internal voice panicking at the thought of leaving? She had to be stupid.

A pleasurable sense caressed her spine, which was all the warning she received before a sharp knock hit the door. Coram didn’t bother waiting until she answered. He slid inside while she was still twisting around, appearing every bit as panicked as she felt, which was super embarrassing. Dropping her pack, Paz let her wide eyes try and soak up everything about him but those dusty blue irises met hers and she just…

Fuck. What was this? It was like she was obsessed or something. He was why she didn’t want to go, wasn’t he? Damn her own feelings, betraying her when she’d really needed them on the same page as her sober (for once) brain.

“Ten minutes,” he hoarsely informed her. “Give me a second after touchdown and we’ll…” He caught himself, gaze flickering to her feet. Whatever he’d meant to say he couldn’t bring himself to actively voice it. Paz didn’t care.

Slowly and deliberately, she took the few steps forward to meet him at the door. They couldn’t fuck in ten minutes, not when he was clearly distracted with other things, but they could…you know, share one another’s breath, and space, and touch. The touching…ye, that was what she’d miss.

On her tip-toes she grabbed both his hands and pressed her hips into his thighs. His entire body thrummed against hers, any leftover exhaustion from their earlier romp gone. He stared down at her, lids lowering as his gaze softened.

_I’m going to miss you_ , she thought, words she refused to ever admit because this was not the kind of thing she did. _I wish you weren’t on this stupid Hylerian bullshit because I’d love to keep this up but I guess…guess this is just the way things are. Sorry. Good luck fixing this shit._

Whatever he was thinking she could tell he’d also rather die than ever, _ever_ tell her. Least they were both stubborn as fuck.

She tilted her jaw back, silently inviting him down. Coram obliged, ducking considerably, fingers squeezing hers tight. When their noses brushed he uttered a slight groan, which encouraged her faint smile. She did like hearing the noises he made.

Gently, she brushed her lips over his, nudging him to reciprocate. He did in an instant, hungrily deepening their kiss, deeper and deeper. She toyed with his tongue, her soul curling in delight. Blood rushed to her head, her heart picking up immensely, and she badly wanted to start ripping off her clothes but he’d trapped her hands behind her back with his own, keeping her pelvis crushed to him like he had to demonstrate how much he liked this without actually saying so.

She didn’t care. Didn’t care that it was weird, or that continuing _anything_ with him was stupid. In this little cocoon they’d created she’d never felt better, and prolonging it for a little longer seemed worthwhile.

It didn’t last much longer, anyway. Still trapped in his embraced, Coram paused with his tongue to hers, breathing her in for a few beats before drawing back. Paz wanted to whine but that was pathetic and she’d already proven how weak she was so he didn’t need to hear more. Instead she pursed her lips, trying to pretend he hadn’t just lit up her whole body with a quick make-out.

Silent, he dropped his forehead to hers one more time, eyes loosely shut. He seemed at peace. She wished she felt the same because it was so, _so_ annoying being hung up about this dickhead.

“Thank you,” he whispered, lips grazing over hers. “I’ll keep this to myself. Promise. Your badass reputation still stands.”

Just as his no-nonsense-or-fun captain reputation would stand. Holding in her laugh, she kissed him one more time for good measure before extracting herself from his lingering embrace. They both knew the second the door opened this was over. Looking her up and down one last time, Coram took a deep breath and smirked, his signature douchebag look. He finally tore his gaze to her abandoned pack, nodding at it.

“Head down to the hatch. We’ll meet you there.”

And then he slipped out before either could make it more awkward. Paz formed her own smirk, which was better than wishing she could draw him back to bed. She grabbed her backpack, gave herself a couple seconds to recompose herself, then headed out into the hall, making a beeline for the hatch.

Just a few more minutes and she’d be free.

X

Ten minutes her _ass_. Paz was down in the hatch, pacing like a goddamned animal, for _at least_ twenty minutes before she caught sight of anything out its small porthole. She was chomping at the bit but as soon as the black void beyond was replaced with the dark, shimmering side of a massive ship (well, compared to their own), she forgot what she was so anxious about and pressed her nose to the glass, eyes wide and thirsty for more.

It twisted to reveal an underbelly currently in the process of splitting open, their clearance already gained, apparently. Glued to the spot, she watched as the Lakai loomed closer and closer, then engulfed them in its great hangar. Other, smaller rigs littered nearby in their respective bays, and she idly wondered which one she’d take to return to Osiris.

It was taking forever for the hull to close and the ship to rest in a bay. She waited as patiently as she could, forgetting about the captain and Desh since they hadn’t graced her with their presence yet. If they wanted to be first then they’d missed their chance. As soon as the hatch stated it was safe to open she’d slam the clearance panel until it let her out.

Her gaze flicked from the quickly growing tarmac to a hatch fifty meters or so down one bay, bright lights illuminating everything in a garish, cold glow. She wanted out. So badly. She’d jump out of her skin in a couple minutes. It’d been too long since she’d had room to properly stretch. Also, she’d had it up to here with living in close quarters with two guys who were clearly used to others cleaning up after them.

Finally, and not a moment too soon, the hatch emitted a cheerful, safe ding. Letting out a whoop, Paz hit the clearance panel and did a little jig while the hatch hissed open, its ladder gingerly lowering to the tarmac. She couldn’t wait, climbing down before it even reached the ground and jumping off, boots hitting solid cement for the first time in what felt like eons.

_Yes. Yes, yes, yes!_ Arms flinging wide open, she twirled about and took in a deep breath, _so_ happy to have a better pool of oxygen at her disposal. Somewhere behind her the bay’s hatch was hissing, but she’d get to that in a second. She wanted to check out the other rigs first, just in case—

“ _Paz!_ ”

Her heart stopped, every inch of her seizing up. The hangar ceased to exist. That voice…

Paz whipped around, body on some kind of autopilot, desperately searching for the owner of that voice. She’d know it anywhere, in any condition. Sure enough, pounding down the gangplank from the hatch, Sam ran for her at top speed. His feet barely touched the ground, dreamy face focused only on her in his hurry. She didn’t know what to process first: the fact he looked exactly as she remembered, or the fact he was _here_. H-how…?

He was here? Was this a joke?

It was not, and she knew it wasn’t when he essentially tackled her, enveloping her in an enormous bear hug while she staggered backward with a squeak. Head burying in her shoulder, he squeezed her so hard she thought she might pop. Still bewildered, Paz stupidly held herself up, mind wild with questions. Was Val here? Where was the Osiris?

“Gods,” Sam roughly gasped in her ear, smothering her in his hold. “Gods, it’s you. You’re alive!”

Snapping out of her confusion, Paz managed returning the hug best she could. This was Sam. _Sam_. Every worry she’d had collapsed, a flood of relief coming over her. He was _alive_. He looked, smelled, _felt_ exactly the same.

“You’re here,” she choked out, leaning into him, blinking against the wetness welling in her eyes. “But how— _here_?”

Someone cleared their throat from above. Twisting around with her still in his arms, Sam shifted just enough so she could see a few blurry figures guarding the bay’s hatch. Reeser she was absolutely happy to see, even if he was grinning like a smarmy asshole, but the others…

Lonyn and Sentia, both appearing broody and sick of this shit as always, lingered just behind him.

Damn, she really could cry now— _was_ crying, actually. Sam kissed her temple, breathing into her ear how much he’d missed her, and she cried harder. She lost track of how many kisses he offered, could hardly keep up. Goddamn, they’d come for her. They’d found _her_ , not the other way around. Reeser’s smirk broadened as he crossed his arms, leaning on the hatch like he’d orchestrated everything.

He apparently had as he sarcastically lamented, “Now we’re even, kid.”

Hardly able to believe it, Paz turned her watery eyes to Sam and his perfect, exuberant face. He hadn’t let her go for an instant, his bright eyes and smile waking up something in her that’d long been dormant. As elated as it made her, she wanted to stomp it down and pretend it hadn’t returned.

But instead she sobbed harder and threw herself into his chest.

“You’re here,” she repeated, squeezing him as hard as she could, hoping to drown out that feeling. “Here.”


	51. Ch 49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now, what half the Osiris crew was up to while Paz was out causing trouble :3

~Three Months Earlier~

-Omega quadrant, M12, Daysturis-

Fingers drumming on her desk, Val boredly studied the crew members before her. She’d been in a foul mood for a solid two weeks now and Sam wasn’t sure how much more of it he could take. He shifted his own gaze from the floor to the woman on his right. Their pilot, Lonyn, wasn’t thrilled about this meeting, either. Least he wasn’t the only one.

“One more time,” their captain growled, bright nails harshly tapping now. “Tell me _exactly_ what they said.”

This would’ve been easier had she interrogated them right _after_ the attack on Osiris, but no, she’d been pissy and kicking things around back then. Back then the Osiris had been running on pure panic, which wasn’t a good look for the captain.

Sam looked to Lonyn again, who kept her face stone cold as she shifted in the uncomfortable metal chair and said, “They said they had to go home. Nobody stated where that was.”

“What about this Reeser fellow?”

“Name goes nowhere in Fed systems,” their pilot spat, huffing in contempt. They’d already been through this before. “For all we know it’s a nickname, a very popular one in Deos, by the way.”

Val hadn’t believed that the first time, and she sure as hell didn’t now. Sam would say something but their pilot had given him the most threatening look earlier. Between her or Val, at least Val might let him live. Lonyn had no reason to keep him breathing—he didn’t belong to her—and he knew her Nav background. He didn’t need it demonstrated, thanks.

Their captain’s gaze cut to him anyway, somehow aware he knew more than he let on. He didn’t, he really didn’t, but he’d…no, he didn’t know what he’d seen.

“And you have _no idea_ how these fuckers broke in,” she confirmed, glare never leaving him. Sam gulped, arms going tingly. Ever since the incident he’d just…it was like he’d forgotten how to shield himself from Val’s scrutiny.

“I mean, she was spooked about something when we went to bed. I figured it was nothing cos…you know how she gets. I told her to go back to sleep.”

He might as well have told Val he’d _invited_ the gang of marauders aboard. Her glare withered while she scraped one nail down the desk. Two neat piles of paperwork bordered her smoldering form.

“So you fed her some lotus, then next thing you know there’s a bunch of guys with guns in your room.”

Sam hesitated before nodding. The whole scene kept replaying in his head. It made him nauseous just thinking about it. They’d hauled Paz out of bed and she’d been so out of it, so fresh in a lotus coma even _they’d_ thought something was wrong, which was weird, and then they’d wanted her dressed so he’d tried shoving her into something decent. She kept snickering over the whole ordeal and making him panic, certain these guys were going to kill them. Rifles were waved around, Paz carelessly mouthing off, and then they were in the lab forcing him to scrape together all available or curing lotus.

Sam had done it if only because one of them had a gun to his head but he’d continuously return his focus to Paz, terrified she’d say something inflammatory. Yet, the guy watching her didn’t even have a finger on the trigger of his rifle. He merely held it against her, like he held her to him. Something…something about that part, he didn’t understand.

But he hadn’t said anything about that because it seemed dumb. Like, maybe everyone was bluffing? He couldn’t tell, not in the moment.

When they’d decided to hold Paz hostage he’d realized something…something was definitely going on, and it had nothing to do with their lotus supply. People in this quadrant didn’t care for Hylerians either way—they weren’t good for much beyond jobs what with their attitudes. And yet here was a group who’d specifically nabbed her.

In that moment Lonyn of all people had sent him a private ping— _do not let them grab her_.

He’d fought. Fought back, even managed a punch or two but Paz was already being hauled out. He’d watched his best friend disappear, and it killed him that he was having so much trouble following. Until someone clocked him, sending him blacking out on the ground, terrified thoughts spiraling.

When he woke up Paz was…gone. Half the Osiris was a wreck, and outside on Daysturis’s tarmac a fire raged. Sentia had come to collect him, murmuring her condolences—she knew the entire span of his relationship with the Hylerian.

Their crew meeting afterward had been subdued save for Val’s infuriated pacing and ranting. Lonyn sported a swelling, bruised eye and puffy jaw; Mandrelle was coated in sweat (he’d tried running after Paz); Sentia was also cut up from escaping through the ship’s innards, and he…well, his head pounded like hell and Paz was gone.

Gone.

He’d wanted to cry; still wanted to, actually, because it felt like Paz had vanished into the void without a trace. Her coordinates were non-existent. No one was celebrating a haul of lotus or a Hylerian capture. It was like she didn’t exist any longer, and with her, a piece of his soul was now missing as well. She…he’d only put up with this miserable tenure on the Osiris because of her.

In the present, Val sneered. “Do you _know_ what this is gonna cost me? Do either of you _understand_ the lengths I’ve gone through to keep her on board?”

_Her_? Sam fought to keep his face neutral. To Val it’d always been about Paz, obviously, but she’d at least insisted it was the lotus she really cared about until now. Beside him, Lonyn shrugged once more.

“Give it time. She’s creative. She’ll pop up somewhere. She always does.”

Sam found himself nodding, hoping it was true. Paz was really good at calling Val from various port authorities, innocently requesting bailouts because it was _never_ her fault for landing in jail.

Val’s upper lip twitched as she snarled. “I don’t think you heard me. This isn’t one of those joy rides, Avery. We have a group that doesn’t claim any Triad ties who stole _my property_. We have someone who had no problem stealing both her and our product. I’m not wasting time _hoping_ she shows up. I’m calling in the Nav—make sure you both tell them everything you can when they show up.”

Now their pilot started, lurching forward in her chair. “Pardon— _what_? You’ve never—the Nav isn’t going to do anything. And I can’t talk to them, remember?”

“They’ll make an exception,” Val countered, eyelids already lowering. She was calling the Nav— _now_. Feeling like things were continuing to slip out of his control Sam nervously watched while Lonyn shot to her feet, hands slamming on Val’s desk.

“Yo, the Nav can’t help. They don’t care about shit like this and besides, even if they did you know they’d be just as likely to shoot her down if there was any kind of conflict. She’s—”

“Sit down,” Val recommended in a growl, though Lonyn did no such thing. She was on a roll.

“Val, the Nav _can’t_ help,” she argued, voice echoing in the tiny office. “They—even if they somehow found her, they’re not gonna give her back.”

They wouldn’t? Sam wrenched his neck as he frowned at their pilot. Of course they would. Why wouldn’t they?

Their captain pursed her lips. Her call was still ongoing, a report being made in real time. “Long as they have her I don’t care.”

_Now_ Sam was alarmed. First Lonyn was saying the Nav wouldn’t give her back, then Val didn’t care so long as the Nav had her? He ignored the dryness in his throat, stomach squeezing anxiously. “Long as they—what do you mean?”

“They put in a bid for her services,” Val idly explained, eyelids twitching. “I approved the sale a couple months back. With all the trouble she gets into they might as well whip her into shape.”

“You sold her?” Lonyn quietly asked, body tensing. “To the Nav? Isn’t she supposed to deal with Fiala?”

“Mandrelle can do that,” Val decided, unmoved. “You know the trouble I’ve had with her. Let someone else take her on.”

She said all of this as if she didn’t have her only other _property_ in the room. She said all of this as if she had no attachment to the Hylerian. Sam stared at the captain, a dull roar taking over. He blinked, wishing he hadn’t just heard that.

“But…” he stammered, white dots pricking in his peripheral. “But, it’s Paz. She…you raised her.”

Val’s acidic green eyes rolled like she didn’t care. “Ye, and look how well that turned out. Look, I know you were close but don’t worry—we’ll find you another friend here soon. _She_ , however, needs to be returned. Either to me or the Nav. Long as I get paid, I don’t care who.”

He wasn’t sure he was touching the ground. Gripping the chair’s arms, Sam dumbly stared at Val’s colorful nails. He’d broken into a sweat, nothing making sense any longer. It couldn’t be true. Val wouldn’t just…she wouldn’t sell Paz off. That wasn’t fair. It—

_How could you_ , he wanted to scream. _How could you, you lying bitch? She’s done everything you asked—everything! You said you’d let us go one day, you said we could leave. You…sold her. How could you_?

One hand raked through his hair, thoughts in a loop. What was he going to do? He had to do something, couldn’t just sit here frantically worrying. Paz wouldn’t do that. No, she’d flip Val’s desk and raise hell—he’d seen it before. Would the Nav help? They were good, he knew they were, but if Lonyn wasn’t convinced then he didn’t know what to think. He did already know Paz wouldn’t handle any kind of Nav help (or capture) well. She had a poor track record with authority of all kinds.

He couldn’t stomach the thought, the idea that he was now on his own, and she…they had no idea where she was, or if she was even…alive.

Lonyn’s shadow blocked him as she stood directly in front of Val. “Val, you don’t get it. Call someone else. Let someone else find her. Fuck, _I’ll_ do it if you want, but—”

“And where would you begin, yah?” Val questioned, squinting at their pilot. “Only way she’s getting found is if word gets out.”

Lonyn started to say something but stopped, jaw grinding instead. Sam caught a flash of clenched fists as she whipped around, shoving out of the office without another word. He wanted to follow but slumped in his chair instead. Soon as the door slammed shut Val’s keen glare fell on him, softening just a bit. She leaned forward, elbows pushing against her papers.

“I know you were close. I know. But you know the Nav wouldn’t pay for you. Sam, you’re more valuable than her anyway, at least to me. You know that, ye? We have our differences, but we make a good team. We’ll get through this, and I’ll find you someone else. Don’t worry. Now, are you _sure_ you don’t remember anything else?”

Gods, he wanted to vomit.

X

When he was finished giving small tidbits of what he was sure was useless information, Sam wobbled out of Val’s office and down through Osiris’s main hall. He felt sick, truly sick, and he didn’t know what to do, not anymore. Logic told him Val had every right to do as she pleased but that didn’t stop him from resenting her, _hating_ her for making decisions.

Yes, of course she had the authority, but that meant shit. Why’d she make the sale? Why now? Wouldn’t it have been easier to sell Paz off years ago? The timing nagged at him despite his swirling thoughts. He didn’t get it, and it pissed him to no end realizing that bond, that familiar tie Paz claimed she and the captain had, didn’t matter. Not when credits were involved.

He’d _watched_ her and Val’s relationship as they grew. He’d seen Val comfort Paz, calm her in her fits of rage where she could. Paz had done everything she could to make Val proud of her. The number of times he’d jealously witnessed the captain praising her work…it couldn’t have all been a lie. It just couldn’t. There was something about their relationship that couldn’t be faked, no matter how rowdy Paz got or how hard Val laid down the law. No one knew the whole story beyond Val, but the Hylerian had been with her _forever_.

Something about this…it wasn’t right.

He turned to forge down the offshoot to his room but came face to face with Lonyn. She blocked the hallway like her very own wall. When he backed off with a mumbled apology she sneered, grabbed him by the arm, and dragged him down the way with her toward the labs instead. Least he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut, hurrying with her until she shoved him inside, slamming the door shut behind them. The lab’s lights were on glo-set, rendering it almost impossible not to knock into one of his processing tables as he stumbled deeper insider.

Blocking the door, Lonyn didn’t move. Instead she nodded at one of the stools he used, indicating he sit. Justifiably confused, Sam did like she asked anyway. She was higher up than him on the food chain.

“Ah, what…what’s up?” he wondered, tentatively sitting. He hadn’t been in the lab for a week or so, yet it still smelled sharp and chemical-laden like usual.

“What’d you tell Val?” Lonyn demanded, arms crossing over her chest. “She had you in there for over an hour.”

She had? He hadn’t thought it was that long. A quick check on his comm indicated the pilot was right. “Oh. Ah, I mean, nothing I didn’t already tell her. I don’t know who these guys were—I don’t think we’ll ever know, not unless they decide to hand…hand her back.”

Lonyn’s brow furrowed. Her gaze flickered behind him, and he started as shuffling came from the back of the lab. Sentia pulled up a stool next to him, her worn features appearing more haggard than usual. Glancing around for any further surprise, Sam raised an eyebrow at Lonyn.

“Um. What’s going on?”

One hand laid over his knees. He glanced to Sentia, who cleared her throat.

“Sam,” she gently began, “we need to know everything you heard or saw when we were accosted.”

His jaw hung as he stared at the ship’s resident techy. Hadn’t he just… “Why? I just told Val all I knew.”

“Ye, but beyond _that_ ,” Sentia clarified. “There was someone there that Paz knew, this Reeser. He’d been here previously looking for lotus. Did she ever say anything about him?”

Had Paz? Generally she was melted in his couch or in bed if they were together. He forced himself to think back, trying to remember that week between their last deal and her capture. She’d said something, found it hilarious…what had it been…

_He said he felt like a piece of meat. Funny, ye? This nerdy ex-Nav dude with a fucking bum leg, acting like we’re objectifying him? Tch, as if_.

Cringing, he squinted at Sentia. “But—why?”

Lonyn answered, her voice grating. “Because if anyone shouldn’t be sold to the Nav, it’s a Hylerian.”

She sounded serious as could be. Sam struggled, unsure what was so pressing about the issue besides the fact Paz was gone. This Reeser dude, whoever he was…that hadn’t been the guy who’d held her like he was…familiar with her. But, Lonyn had touched on the ‘Nav’ thing so he offered that small bit of conversation.

“She’d said he was ex-Nav, I think. Something about a leg?”

If she could still any further Lonyn would’ve. She mouthed something to herself, frown deepening. The scowl disappeared as she looked to Sentia, both sharing a weird expression. Finally, she addressed Sam, shoulders loosening just a little.

“There’s a possibility we might be able to track her, then. But…Sam, you cannot share this information with Val, or any cops, alright? It’s imperative _anyone_ but the Nav sniff her out.”

“Meaning us,” Sentia added, squeezing Sam’s knee for good measure. At this point however he drew back, skeeved out. Why shouldn’t the Nav do it? Well, beside the part where she was being sold to them, he figured the Nav could definitely do it. They had the resources, time, and firepower to fuck up whoever took her. But these two…

“You want to find her?” he asked, voice tight. “But, Val’s already looking—”

“Not Val,” Lonyn corrected, huffing at his apparent slowness. “Not Osiris. _Us_.”

Oh. _Oh._ They—

“You’re going to track them down alone?” he hissed, alarmed yet…intrigued. “Ah, how?”

Sharing a look again with Sentia, Lonyn scanned Sam over with only a hint of disdain. “Easy. Take a rig, then follow the trail your girlfriend thoughtfully left.”

Trail? “What trail?”

Osiris’s pilot grimaced. “Do you want to find her, Sam?” He was nodding before she’d finished. Seemingly satisfied, she added, “Then come with us and see for yourself.”


	52. Ch 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well, Lonyn may have deserted the Nav but that doesn't mean she didn't learn a thing or two in her time!

~Two Months Ago~

Awkwardly flexing his shoulder blade (and wincing only slightly), Sam tried getting comfortable on the crate he’d been designated. He wasn’t the only one, but it was still annoying.

Definitely cramped, too.

“Stop fidgeting,” Sentia growled at him from less than a meter away, ass on the cockpit floor while she cleaned her tools. “You break your stitches and I won’t be as nice fixing them.”

Sam stopped his moving. He believed her. No matter how much his shoulder ached or itched, the tattoo Val used to track him was gone, quickly removed the second Sentia had the focus (and time) to destroy it. He craned his neck instead, peering over the only chair in the cockpit.

Lonyn was piloting; therefore she occupied the real seat. Every bit of the rig they’d stolen (Paz’s, actually) was incredibly claustrophobic with three people shoved inside. The owner’s manual he’d found in a discarded corner explicitly mentioned the rig was only suitable for one person, but so far…well, they were making the best of it. They’d taken it two days ago, easing out of the Osiris’s belly on Daysturis’s docks due to the fact it was the zippiest thing at their disposal. Sentia had modified its engines years ago, which explained how Paz managed the level of trouble she did instead of more.

He’d slept in her bed just down the short hall, at least after the ugly surgery Sentia passed off as ‘medically professional’ (he _was_ alive, so he couldn’t really complain). Staying there made his chest ache even if it was the most comfortable place on board. He’d stay down in the hull with Sentia but…she had her own things filling that up. Apparently, their techy had been wanting to leave for a long, long time.

She and Lonyn had been _extremely_ prepared compared to Sam. Where he’d fretted over what to bring they’d both carried only a backpack onboard—well, Sentia’s tech stuff had been a separate trip he hadn’t been a part of. Lonyn told him to basically just pack some extra clothes so he did, and then…a couple hours later everyone had settled in for night-glo, she’d burst into his room and told him it was time.

The fact she held not one but two plasma rifles in her arms motivated him to follow right behind, down through Osiris’s engine bay and then into their small hangar. He’d never seen anyone challenge Mandrelle and win (Paz didn’t count because Mandrelle didn’t take her seriously), but Lonyn managed, kicking his ass before proceeding to kick open Paz’s rig where Sentia already waited. By then Mandrelle had alerted Val—Sentia overrode the hangar’s door and they’d secured the rig’s hatch, pulling out while Val screamed obscene threats over their comms.

Sam took that opportunity to announce he wasn’t coming back (ever), which…went about as well as one would expect, but by then they’d shot out of the Osiris and were blasting up and over Daysturis’s docks, Lonyn pushing the ship hard to evade patrols Val had already called for. He’d never been so sick in his life, not as she dodged fire from seemingly all directions, the rig spinning with enough velocity to make him pass out at least twice. All the while Lonyn screamed threats back at Val, an endless list of wrongs and lack of payment for jobs she’d been promised but never received mounting up upon the captain.

If Sentia had any grievances she never voiced them. Instead she’d resumed taking apart every bit of the rig that could be traced or recognized. It quickly became clear to Sam he was escaping with some heavyweights—he’d need to contribute in any way he could.

The first order of that business meant letting Sentia remove his tattoo. In between he divulged literally every second he could remember in regards to the crew that’d boarded and taken Paz, his memory now the only thing that might bring them to her, or whoever last had her.

Which brought them to his current cramped spot in the cockpit behind Lonyn while she hauled ass for the nearest gate. She’d promised to tell him how everything fit together which had been enough motivation to make his appearance. Sentia clearly knew more than she let on, too, but he knew she’d never freely explain. Lonyn, however…he had no idea why their pilot was so interest in Paz’s abduction. They only got along when they were drunk.

“I thought you didn’t even _like_ Paz,” he croaked, fighting the urge to scratch at his blade. Starting with the truth seemed like the easiest place to begin. Up above, Lonyn’s shoulders squared. She didn’t need to look back to explain.

“Honestly, she’s not my favorite person, but…I can’t hand a Hylerian over to the Nav. No one deserves that, alright?”

Sam snorted. The Nav were a bunch of pricks, ye, but they weren’t the worst people patrolling Andromeda. Lonyn had clearly forgotten that offshoot of Triads they’d dealt with last year who had a collection of _hands_ from their victims. The Nav couldn’t be that bad.

“Nav’s not that bad. _You_ used to work with them.”

Their pilot huffed a bitter laugh. “Ye, and you’re lucky I’m not with them any longer—the entire _void_ is. Listen, kid; the Nav is fine. Annoying for us, but fine. For people like her though? Completely different story. Therefore, we find Paz before they do.”

Wow. That was…he couldn’t take her seriously, not when she was acting like this was a vid, but he tried. Clearing his throat, Sam asked, “Uh…how?”

“Glad you asked,” she snappily retorted, reaching leftward to punch keys on the main dash. “I said we’re gonna follow the trail she left, ye? Well, what trail, you might be wondering. The one she inadvertently gave us which, granted, is not a good one, but it’s something. Sam, what’d you say about this Reeser fellow?”

“I…ah, she said something about a bum leg—”

“She meant his knee. What else?”

“Oh, she did? Uh. Well, he was in the Nav?”

She deigned tilting her head to offer him a smug grin. “ _Yes,_ Sam. Now, I’ve been in the Nav, ye? So I did some searching with what little contacts I have left. Guess how many Reeser’s are in the Nav, Sam?”

He gulped, confused. Why wasn’t Sentia putting on the pressure? “A…lot?”

“ _Eh_ —wrong. There are none.”

“But I thought you said—”

“How many guys were once in the Nav with the nickname ‘Reeser’? Thirteen. There’s thirteen—all across Andromeda. How many were discharged over a leg—nay, a _knee_? One. Ten years ago a Rhys Marchant of Geminid was dishonorably discharged from the Nav, despite extensive piloting awards. He disappeared after that but do you think a friggin’ pilot who’s won the Circalain honor is going to stop flying? Hell no. So. If this Reeser is the one who helped grab her, then the key to finding Paz is finding him first. Since he’s off the radar we’re going to have to do some digging, but it’s possible.”

Sam frowned. This seemed like an awful lot of work on a coincidental guess. “But what if he lied? What if this gets us nowhere?”

“It’s all we have,” she concluded, twisting to face the dash. “And I don’t think I’m wrong about this. Unless you can remember anything else, my gut says we head to Tauri and start asking around. If anyone knows where a top pilot vanished off to, it’ll be there.”

Tauri? He could feel apprehension rising in his own gut. Lonyn was right, but… _Tauri_? That was not the best place to frequent in Andromeda. Triads ruled the colony and its quadrant.

Much as Sam wanted to hug Paz again and start fresh, he did _not_ want to go to Tauri. He couldn’t help gulping like an idiot. “What about…Geminid? If this pilot’s _from_ Geminid, shouldn’t we start there?”

Beneath him, Sentia clucked. It sounded very mocking, enough to catch his sordid attention. Even though she was frowning he knew she found that amusing.

“Think, Sam. He was _dishonorably_ discharged. You truly believe Geminid would welcome him back?”

He didn’t even have to consider it to know she was right. Leaning over himself on his crate, Sam sighed. “Tauri then, I guess.”


	53. Ch 51

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well whaddaya know, the gang solved the mystery!

~One month ago~

-Tauri Quadrant, M92-

_Bam_! The door behind him shivered as Lonyn slammed another Triad goon into it. She never shouted for what she wanted, not in Tauri, but it was clear she was threatening some pretty gruesome things; the goon was moaning something fierce. Ignoring it, Sam scanned the long end of the hallway once more, ensuring they were still alone. Sentia was downstairs manning the entrance, but one could never be too careful, especially here.

They’d been in Tauri for two weeks now, and he’d detested almost every waking minute of it. The colony lived up to its reputation as a despicable hotspot, with Triads running nearly every aspect of it and the over-mined rock it resided on. Anything the Triads didn’t have a strong grip on other gangs and mercenary factions were looking to take instead. Fitting in hadn’t been hard; oh no, Sentia had taken care of that with a few mods, and he’d resumed his usual schtick selling lotus for credits soon as they’d come up with a large enough stash (courtesy of holding up a few trucks once they’d surveyed the colony). The hard part was tolerating the staggering amount of violence and crime the Triads dealt in.

If anyone was going to be a pain in the Nav’s ass, Sam would’ve thought it’d be the Triads. Here, however, it was like the Nav didn’t care. Triads essentially _owned_ Tauri—the Prime Minister was a guy who very clearly worked for them, port authorities bore Triad tattoos and insignias on their uniforms, and the unofficial but definitely only language of the land was…what Triads spoke, a weird mixture of common tongue and something Sam couldn’t quite understand, making his comm vital, even if the majority of its features had been shut down thanks to Sentia.

Regardless, he’d seen a lot while here and wished he could scrub so much of it from his own eyeballs. Tauri was a hub for substances, arms, and trafficking. Unlike Deos or Karkinos, where people could be bought in a legal manner, any slaves he’d seen were casually traded across the board for goods and services and no paper trails. Despite this, any runaways or the like were still lobbed with hefty bounties on their heads.

Oh, by the way, he had a huge bounty on his head, hence the mods. Sam had never worn any before, never needed to, but now the cloying feeling of some kind of second skin was all that protected him from an entire colony of people willing to rat out anyone for extra credits.

That was always on his mind, as it was now, while the panicked moaning grew behind him. Lonyn had tracked down another discharged Nav member to the lotus den they now occupied, and she was not leaving until she received some answers. So far, he’d realized, she was really good at getting answers.

He still had no clue why she was hung up on finding Paz. He appreciated it, obviously; he just didn’t understand it. Lonyn kept to herself on the Osiris. Aside from a few moments where she’d banded together with the rest of the crew for one reason or another (better food, more shore time, etc.) the cockpit was her realm. She and Paz never got along—few did at first glance with the Hylerian—but they did enjoy drinking together from time to time. That alone didn’t seem like a good reason for their pilot to suddenly jump to defend Paz.

He would never complain though, never. It turned out there was no better tracker than a defected Nav pilot who seemed to be consistently pissed off by everything. She was methodical and organized in her hunting, working Tauri from one end to the next, any clues or tips added to the running list she was always updating in their group task list.

So far they hadn’t found this Rhys Marchant personally, but they _had_ found a few people who knew _of_ him. Or had, once. Ten years ago. It was like he’d dropped out of Andromeda altogether.

That didn’t deter Lonyn however. She moved from victim to victim, starting with the easiest ones to pick off and getting into the nitty-gritty. The guy she was currently growling at had apparently been a drinking buddy a decade back. He and this Rhys had spent a good amount of time at the same bars when he’d first been discharged. First they’d started as buddies on Centurion Beta together, then moved before Rhys was kicked out for failure to register with Beta’s work programs. At that point they’d hopped a cargo rig, soared across Andromeda stealing and drinking and some other shameful things to get by, all of this ending up in Tauri after some dead-ends. For a good year Rhys drank like a fish, and then one day he disappeared.

This buddy was the last person who’d seen him alive. No one ever reported him as missing to authorities (because what were the Triads going to do? Drain any accounts he might’ve kept, no matter how unlikely that seemed?), so Lonyn was pressuring him to think long and hard about the last time he’d hung out with Rhys.

Suddenly the groans and threats ceased, a muffled murmur hitting the door instead. Sam attempted listening but music piped in overhead made it difficult. Lonyn would tell them everything anyway. He still wished he were more valuable to their small team. Credits helped, sure, but he had a feeling Lonyn or Sentia would make do regardless.

It was times like these where he realized yes, Val had been right; he _was_ more useful in her clutches than anywhere else. That didn’t mean he wanted to return though. Hell no. He was out—free. Returning wasn’t an option, especially not when Val intended on selling his best friend. Or, as the others had dubbed Paz, his girlfriend. It wasn’t _quite_ true, but it was more true than not. Regardless, Paz was the only reason he’d tolerated Val’s order for so long. There was no going back now.

“Really now.” Lonyn’s falsetto of a purr reverberated on the door. Sam paused, straining for any of Rhys’ buddy’s words. He still couldn’t hear anything from the other guy. Lonyn sounded intrigued. “And that’s all you saw? No one else?”

Silence, at least in the hall. Sam’s gaze found a dying fern planted in one corner, halfheartedly studying its leaves.

“Hmm. You’re _sure_ that’s who sat down with him?” Another beat, then a thud hit the door. “Great. Thanks for the help, Jasper. When I find him I’ll be sure to tell him you said hello.”

Another thud, a pathetic mew of pain, and then the door swept open. Sam stepped aside, not bothering to glance inside the room. Lonyn stepped out, that grim smirk she usually wore back in place. She nodded Sam’s way, beckoning he follow as she swaggered for the stairs. Used to these interrogations by now, he obeyed and kept quiet until they were traipsing down to ground level.

“I don’t like where this is headed,” she muttered under her breath, careful to keep what she’d learned quiet. “Don’t think we’re dealing with regular pirates.”

That’d been the theory so far, that some band of pirates had heard Paz could pull some insane shit off and wanted that kind of talent for themselves. Unlikely, yet plausible. Sam glanced over a broad shoulder, just in case. Lonyn’s victim wasn’t following.

“He saw someone talking to our guy?” It was the most he’d gleaned. Lonyn gave a curt nod, slowing while they turned down the steps and into a new hallway, one that lined the back of the bar. Sentia would be in front of the swinging doors at the end.

“Ye. Said he started to head over because it looked like Rhys didn’t want to chat, but a couple thugs got in his way and that’s all he remembers.”

“Oh.” That didn’t sound very promising. Sensing his frown, Lonyn paused and cut him a look.

“Hylerian thugs, Sam. Not one, but _multiple_. All of them.”

Multiple? They moved on but Sam was still confused. There weren’t that many Hylerians in general, maybe a couple hundred from what he knew. Meeting more than one in a single day (or week, even) was unheard of—he’d only met one besides Paz in his whole life (and they’d been an asshole). How’d a herd of them come find Rhys in some backstreet bar? It wasn’t like—

Oh. _Oh no_. Paling, Sam froze before leaning into the nearest wall. The attackers, they’d…they’d been huge, all of them. He hadn’t thought anything of it, simply presumed they were dealing with a bunch of jacked-up thieves, but Hylerians? Could they have been? But why would a Nav pilot be in their midst? If they’d picked Rhys up then…

Hearing his guttural curse, Lonyn stopped and swiveled on her heels, arms crossing in contempt. “Ye. My thoughts exactly. If they recruited him, chances are they knew about his accolades. Now, _if_ he stayed with these guys then we have a new target, and…it’s not gonna be easy finding them.”

He’d ask why but he already knew, thoughts quickly spiraling. He sagged against the wall. Despite their small numbers there were a few nearly all-Hylerian crews that sailed Andromeda. They were considered terrorists and the like because they actively targeted Nav ships, and _no one_ liked them, not even Triads. Hylerians weren’t welcome in Tauri, in colonies, or on the byways, and their reputation marred those who weren’t under someone else’s name, hence Val keeping Paz on a leash in cleared areas only. Paz didn’t look very Hylerian aside from her face (ships weren't the best place to raise a child or find proper nutrition, hence her stunted growth), making it easier for her, but still. She could put on the charm when she felt like getting something, but rarely else did strangers enjoy her company unless they were getting something out of her.

He knew…gods, he could only come up with a few ships for certain that fell under those Hylerian crews. One (he thought it was the Jaro?) trawled Tauri’s quadrant, picking off Triads. It was run by a female, though he couldn’t remember her name. Another one that’d made all sorts of news until a few years back had been the Mabal. The Nav had surprised that ship, gutting it and killing one of its captains, a Vanson, in the process. In the aftermath several new crews formed, though he only remembered one other, one he’d heard of frequently since the Osiris sailed similar quadrants. What was it, the…Lakai? Ye, that sounded right, and a relatively younger guy ran it, a Coram, who—

She’d mentioned a Coram. Sam’s blood went cold, heart stuttering. Paz had been on leave, and she’d mentioned hooking up with a Coram.

It couldn’t…

It couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? The pieces fit together so well though: a bunk Nav pilot being recruited by Hylerians and used to do their scouting in colonies, a Hylerian who may have hooked up with Paz (but she’d never indicated he was Hylerian) in order to…to what, recruit her? Find out more about her? It wasn’t like she’d _join_ anyone—she regularly made fun of these disillusioned crews (they honestly thought they could take on the Nav). Besides, she _liked_ Osiris. It was everything she’d ever known. The only one who might’ve ever been able to convince her away from it was…him, because he’d wanted them to leave one day. Wanted them to be free. Together. He’d imagined for years going on grand adventures with her at his side.

Fingers snapped in front of his face, startling him. Green eyes flickering up, Sam found Lonyn no more than a step away. She warily eyed him.

“Yah. You okay?”

Blinking hard, he focused on the dirty ground while his gut twisted in agony. “Um…I think I know who Rhys is with.”

Lonyn went preternaturally still, but she didn’t demand anything. Instead she simply stared, waiting. Sam swallowed the anxious lump in his throat, hating to have to say anything.

“The crew that boarded…I think they’re from the Lakai.”

Suddenly there was little space between them, Lonyn glancing left and right as she asked, “And what makes you think it was that scumbag crew?”

Gods, he was going to be sick. A couple weeks in Tauri hadn’t hardened him at all. Sam shut his eyes tight, willing her overbearing presence away. It didn’t work, but it allowed him to at least think.

“Because she… _met_ a guy a couple weeks before it happened. I didn’t think anything of it, cos she does that, but…his name…”

“What was his name?” Lonyn breathed, and even though he couldn’t see it he knew her eyes were wide, the pieces connecting for her, too. Aware this would lead to a type of danger he wasn’t ready for, but willing to go ahead anyway, Sam cringed.

“Coram.”


	54. Ch 52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desperate times call for stupid maneuvers >:3

~One Week Ago~

“Ready?”

Swallowing his nerves, Sam nodded. To his direct left, Lonyn shoved their thrusters forward, barreling them toward a ship they were ninety-five percent certain contained or had contained Paz. It’d taken weeks to find and track the Lakai, trawling clear across Andromeda to trail it, but Sentia had pieced together the data. Now that the Lakai’s belly had opened to let out a rig, this was their only chance in so they were going to take it. They’d have requested docking but Coram’s crew were pirates—they weren’t going to cooperate no matter how much Sam begged.

Thus, it’d come down to barging in. Also Sam’s idea. It’d been so Paz-like Lonyn figured it might work. At this point they had to try.

Hands gripping the controls tight, Lonyn steadily increased speed, stars blurring around them and warnings lighting up the dash in a frenzy. She didn’t dare stop, needing to get them inside before the Lakai noticed or could fire back. She had no doubt the Lakai was equipped with some serious guns, and their dinky little ship definitely wouldn’t survive more than a couple dainty plinks from regular artillery. If it was plasma…shit, they’d be dead in the water.

“Hurry,” Sentia murmured from her left. All three were up in front of the dash, eyeballs glued to that closing maw before them. Lonyn ignored their techy, already pushing the rig as fast as it’d go in such close space. It did _not_ enjoy her pushing and she in turn was sick of it not cooperating with her piloting, so once it was inside she literally didn’t care what happened to it.

“Cozy up,” she snapped at her companions, the Lakai’s beast of a body zooming in. Lasers were sighting them, tracking them. She needed to be prepared to dodge without any warning, and the hull was reeling closed even faster. She somehow coaxed the rig a little faster, it’s drives about ready to combust.

Around her Sentia grabbed Sam and they dove for the floor, strapping in to makeshift seats their techy had created for this very purpose. Sam was understandably anxious, quivering so much she had to buckle him in. Sentia offered a grim smile, jaw tight. There were no words of reassurance. Long as they made it inside, it’d be up to him to ensure their survival.

Closer, closer, closer…

Lonyn was hurtling them through the void, the Lakai suddenly within reach. Their rig shuddered from overload; she gunned it anyway, throwing them into the narrow opening of the larger ship’s hull, right into an array of other ships.She aimed for the ceiling, one hand over central controls while the other frantically worked at its displays, breaking hard with an agonizing screech coming from below.

Everything and everyone was tossed one way, Sam’s curses filling the cockpit while he clung to Sentia. The rig screamed upwards and for the back but Lonyn had overestimated how much room they’d have to land, or at least stop. Despite that, she worked every single display and switch that’d keep them from crashing a little _too_ much. Her mind spun with awful scenarios, desperate to not be the one who killed them (if Sam’s plan sucked that was on him, but she wasn’t going to be responsible). She—

She wished she could say they didn’t slam into the hull’s (hopefully reinforced) wall, but they did, and oblivion came to claim her before she realized what happened.

At least the darkness was calming. Lonyn marinated in it, ancient thoughts and feelings bubbling to her surface, yet she didn’t care much for them, simply observing instead. If she was younger she might experience guilt, but no longer. Nothing could make that happen.

Then the void unceremoniously dumped her out, back into her bowled over body still stuck in the pilot’s seat. Something was pushing into the back of her head, something cold and hard and she vaguely assumed it wasn’t something good. Shouts quickly permeated the ringing in her ears, and when her head was yanked backward her eyes dizzily rolled to see serious looking rifles and several tall, angry looking people crowding the cockpit. Those rifles were trained on her and below at…at the others. Oh boy, this was…this was not what they’d intended on happening.

She flashed her singing teeth regardless, hoarsely cutting through their barking to ask, “Is Topaz here?”

X

Whatever Lonyn said didn’t matter. All three of them were lugged off to separate holding cells, conscious or not. Sam jerked awake at some point, in handcuffs and crammed tight on the rough, grated floor of what looked like a closet. It was quiet, at least, but every inch of him was sore and achey. Slowly lifting his head, he squinted first at his wrists and then the stark metal panels surrounding him. Wherever the door was he couldn’t tell. His comm had been further disabled, meaning he was…essentially alone, and completely isolated, with no way to plead their case.

Swearing under a wheeze, he struggled to his ass and awkwardly swiped at his face. Panic quickly set in. If Lonyn or Sentia were hurt, or killed, he didn’t know what he’d do. They’d come here to help, not make things worse, and he definitely didn’t want anyone dead. Well, not from his team.

There were several people he wanted to harm, but today he needed to be civil first. He _needed_ to show these people he just wanted Paz.

Just Paz. Nothing else. He didn’t care who they were or what they did. He just wanted to make sure she was safe and alive. They’d figure everything else out later.

That was his primary motivation for sucking in air and screaming for her. She had good ears. Sometimes she’d hear things from halfway across the Osiris, though that was rare. Still, it was worth a shot. And if she didn’t, maybe someone else would. He made sure to mention his name more than once.

No one came. He called and called. Nothing. Not even a shiver of the floor. Head against the wall, Sam kept trying through his voice was getting weak. At some point, it must’ve been hours in, he dozed off while trying to pretend he didn’t need to pee. His own thoughts drifted, a haze of hopelessness coming and going. Did they have the right ship? Was Paz even here? What if they’d floated her already? This had been a mistake. He shouldn’t have convinced Lonyn to do this the civil way. They should’ve just begun firing and asked questions later. This plan though he’d thought like Paz, thought they’d have to listen if he shoved himself in their faces. It _always_ worked for her.

Maybe only Hylerians could back that kind of logic up. Gods, he’d screwed this up.

Then the door slid open, a formidable shadow appearing in the frame to Sam’s right. Startled, and blinking hard to adjust to better lighting, he peered up at someone who didn’t…didn’t look much like a Hylerian, despite his height. Bright red hair adorned a wary face, one that indicated he wasn’t going to take any bullshit. He probably had a gun somewhere but Sam didn’t see one. Silent, and ready to accept whatever terms this guy gave if it meant seeing Paz, he kept his head dipped.

“You Sam?” the redhead inquired, voice hard. A little skeptical. Surprised, Sam paused before giving him a tepid nod.

“Ah, ye.”

“You’re looking for Topaz?”

Again, Sam nodded. This guy had probably spoken to the others, then, if he’d already determined that bit. Huffing as if he didn’t have time for this, the redhead crossed both arms over his chest.

“And you’re here of your own free will? Not because a certain slavedriver made you?”

Sam started to indicate that duh, he was here on his own, but he frowned. This guy seemed to know a lot. “Uh…if you mean we’re with Osiris… No, not anymore. We left. We—look, man, is she here? I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

Staring hard at him, the redhead eventually blinked and uncrossed his arms. He entered the tight room, one hand reaching down to help Sam up. Sam stared back, rightfully wary.

“She’s not here,” the redhead casually explained, grabbing Sam’s cuffs and pulling him up regardless. “But, you got the right ship. Nice to meet you, Sam. I’ve heard _way_ too much about you, dude.”


	55. Ch 53

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look, Paz and Sam have an unconventional relationship and while this is addressed at the beginning, I don't really want to dwell on it. For them, it's just the way things are, but hell yeah, Sam would be pissed to hear about her boning Coram. Anyone else? Probably not, but the dick who fucked everything up??? Very different story lol.

Head resting against Sam’s shoulder, Paz tightly squeezed her arms around his solid torso. She hadn’t left his side since they’d landed and had no plans to do it anytime soon. Instead, they’d taken refuge on the couch in the rec area overlooking the stars while Reeser, Lonyn, Sentia, and her current pillow explained exactly how the three from Osiris made it here. Apparently she’d left a lot of biometric residue on her journey, and Sam had recalled a lot of nonsensical talk she’d spewed about Reeser. And…Coram.

She didn’t want to get into the captain right now so she may have focused more on their daring trip and Sam’s quick logic instead of her usual bragging about pretty much everything. It was easier to do anyway with Sam—he was good at putting things in perspective, her exploits seeming childish compared to theirs. So, she didn’t bring up their search or anything, just let them talk, eternally grateful to Reeser for intervening and holding her crew until she was back. They’d get into that later. Once she didn’t feel like this was a dream that could be ripped away at any moment.

Sam had come to find her, and he’d succeeded. So had Sentia and Lonyn, but he’d made it. He’d left Osiris for her. Despite her relief she almost felt…guilty? She wasn’t sure. But she just…

Ugh, she’d figure that out later. For now she just wanted to focus on the fact her crew had come.

Well, most of it.

In a lull between Sam gushing about Lonyn’s piloting and Lonyn brushing off his admiration while ignoring Reeser’s fixed stare (either he was impressed she’d tracked him down or terrified; she wasn’t sure which), Paz did manage raising her head from Sam’s comforting chest to ask Sentia the most pressing questions. Naturally quiet, their techy never offered much unless it was critical information, and she’d consciously ignored Paz aboard the Osiris because their personalities didn’t match whatsoever. Here, however, seeing she’d even come to get her, Paz was humbled and in awe of Sentia’s skill and determination.

Why’d she come made no sense but again, she didn’t want to think about that.

“You couldn’t convince Mandrelle?” she asked, somewhat disappointed. Mandrelle would’ve been useful for training. “But I thought—”

“He made his decision,” Sentia ground out, gaze shooting to the large windows beyond, her hands clasped tight in her lap. She didn’t want to talk about it, clearly. “Asking would have compromised our goal, so his actions decided for him. That won’t be forgiven.”

Given even Lonyn busied herself with a stray thread on her shirt hem and Sam’s compressing chest, Paz knew it was touchy. It made sense—they’d been involved with one another for some time.

“Sorry,” she murmured to Sentia, who shrugged.

“Nothing to be sorry over. Now, the matter of Val…”

Paz shut her eyes, pouting. She didn’t want to talk about Val. She’d been surprisingly calm to hear the truth from her own crew, but that didn’t mean she wanted to dwell on it.

“We can talk about that bitch later.” Thankfully, Sam seemed to understand she wasn’t comfortable with the idea, one hand smoothing up her back in solidarity. “I’m just happy this worked, and you’re alive. Though, _why_ is kind of…”

Paz smirked, pretty eyes turning back up to him. She didn’t want to talk about that, either, because she had an idea and it made her feel things she didn’t want to feel. They were here, and alive. That was all that mattered.

She forced an uneasy tension down in her gut, snuggling closer to Sam.

“Amazing? Told you my charm sometimes works. Turns out being pretty short was a good reason, too.”

Hearing that, Reeser snorted. “Don’t think your ‘charm’ had anything to do with it.”

Oh, he had no idea. Paz moved right along, gaze sliding to Sentia and Lonyn. “Thank you, guys. For, you know, coming. But I would’ve returned, I swear.”

“No need to now,” Sam answered for them, his smile coming through his voice.

“Seriously,” she insisted, smiling in spire of herself. “I would’ve. I don’t abandon my crew.”

“You should’ve,” Lonyn grumbled, sliding down the couch. “Would’ve prevented this bullshit with the Nav in the first place.”

Paz blinked innocently. “Ah…they may already want a piece of me anyway.”

“Leaving your biometrics all over Alpha didn’t help,” Sentia finally remarked, which indicated how she’d tracked down the Lakai. Paz colored with embarrassment. She hadn’t even thought of that. “But I—”

“The Nav may be smart, but they had no reason to look for your signature,” their techy continued, legs bouncing restlessly. “You yourself were easy to find once we had some coordinates to ping off. Whoever in here thought they did a good job scrubbing your tracks is a fool.”

Somehow, some way, Paz knew Desh had been responsible for that. She’d only seen him for a second after they arrived, when he and Coram had exited from their stolen ship to find her being hugged by some Fed-born stranger. He’d smirked, while the captain…

Ugh, that weird feeling in her gut returned. She didn’t want to think about Coram, not when he’d looked right past her like she didn’t exist. Dickhead. Just because they were done didn’t mean he had to act like that.

She dropped back to Sam’s chest, easily grumbling, “Didn’t know I was that bad at stealth.”

“It’s in your nature.” Sentia waved away her grumbling, eyes rolling. “Besides, worked to our advantage.”

“Could Val track her in the same vein?” Reeser inquired, features serious. Judging from the looks he received in turn it hadn’t been his first time asking.

“If she was smart enough, sure,” Sentia allowed, smirking with Lonyn. “But she’s brash—she doesn’t think things through, not when she’s panicked. Where do you think Paz learned it? Beyond that, you’d _know_ if she was tracking your crew. She’s not subtle.”

Paz’s mouth popped open to protest but Sentia was right. Her ability to plan, to put care into her endeavors…that’d been a recent development. She settled down, proud of her ability to push through near anything, but with the way she’d said it, it somehow embarrassed her further. They acted like she’d only inherited bad things from Val, which was absolutely untrue.

“If she’s not coming, what’s your plan then?” Reeser wanted to know, curious. “No offense but it usually doesn’t end well for unaffiliated crews floating around in a stolen rig. Also, nah—you’re not taking the one you crashed in, so someone better have some credits.”

“But they said I’d get a ship,” Paz whined, pouting once more. “I’m free to go so—”

“You’re free?” Reeser eyed her with righteous skepticism. “Ah, you sure about that?”

“I got the second artifact,” she argued, having tried to avoid discussing this. “He—they said that was good enough.”

Lurching forward, the Lakai’s pilot frowned. “That’s fantastic, but again, what are you going to do? Even if the captain promised you a rig it’s not like you’ve got anyone to hurry back to. Also, you _sure_ that’s what he promised?”

“Ye,” she insisted in a growl, feeling very flighty all the sudden. “I saved his ass—I think that _more_ than qualifies for my release. Who cares where we go or what we do? We’ll be out of your hair.”

“Didn’t say I minded,” he loftily retorted, hands clasping between his knees. “Just…”

Paz shot upright, one finger already jabbing at him. “Nah. Don’t even say it.”

“I mean, we have a few spots open,” he sang, eyes crinkling mischievously. “Could use a new copilot since mine got axed, and Sam here could be useful in the labs…”

“ _No_ ,” Paz repeated, glowering now. “No! We’re not joining—”

“He brings up a good point,” Sentia of all people mused, cutting right in. “At least for a transitory period. Gives us some time to lay low—that is, if your captain would allow it.”

“He’s probably chomping at the bit to send Paz off,” Lonyn chimed in, humming in concern. “Don’t blame him, though I’m not sure I’m fond enough of hanging out here, either.”

“They’re _wanted_ ,” Paz pointed out, latching on to Lonyn’s point. “Also, there’s no alcohol.”

“ _What_?” Their pilot sneered. “Uh, why not?” Paz grinned.

“None. At all. You’d hate it. Also, they’re wanted, which I think is a super big reason we should _leave_.”

“You mentioned that,” Reeser snarled over her. “Let them decide.”

To which she argued, “Uh, last time I checked you’re not the captain.”

This quickly devolved into several people shouting at once, yet the more she argued, and the more not-even-reasonable arguments Reeser gave, she found herself…selfishly wondering if she— _they_ , she meant _they—_ could…join the Lakai, for a bit at least. Would it be worth it? Would she like it? She didn’t even know anyone on board besides a handful of people. Those issues seemed so irrelevant though, if she could…

As if he’d known what she was thinking a ping came through from the captain. Paz would ignore it but she was a little jittery and opened it without thinking. Apparently Reeser had already relayed his request to him, because Coram wanted an audience with her (and Desh, sure) to discuss business.

Tch, as if she was going to discuss anything. They were done and honestly he was lucky she hadn’t spouted their whole journey to her crew by now. If he wanted to talk or whatever then he could come to her, not ask via comm.

“Man, I need to shower,” she cut in through their arguing, pulling herself off Sam’s torso. His palm reluctantly slid from her back, and he watched her rise and stretch with a warm smile. Holy fuck, it made her chest ache. She made the executive decision that he…didn’t need to know her weird-ass relationship with Coram. It was done, and there wasn’t anything to say anyway.

She smiled back, truly relieved he was alive, even if it was surreal to see him here on the Lakai. “Come with?”

“You should brief with the captain,” Reeser deliberately recommended, eyes following her even as she headed for the exit. Sam had, of course, risen to follow, but he paused, gaze narrowing.

“Why? She just spent a couple weeks trapped with him.”

_Oh, and how nice this last week was. No. NO. Don’t think about that._

Snapping out of it, Paz at least paused and raised a brow at Reeser. He had good reason to not back down, green eyes remaining on her.

“Or Aim. You should be checked out.”

As if—

Well, Desh had said Aim might be able to untangle her comms. All things considered, it might be a good idea to see the doctor. Still…

Her eyes met Sam’s as she easily lied. “Okay. Sure. Come on. We’ll go see the doctor.”

Reeser started to gag (and protest) but Lonyn cleared her throat. “Whatever. We’ve got shit to go over anyway. Come back when you’re done.”

Grin broadening, Paz reached for Sam and dragged him from the room. He didn’t protest, not even a little, both tumbling down the hall and making a beeline for…well, somewhere private. A shower, and the doctor, could wait.

The closest (and easiest) place they could find was a utility closet, which would work for their purposes. Paz shouldered it open, Sam right behind, and together they spilled inside. Sliding the partition shut, Sam and Paz stood a meter apart amidst buckets and brooms, finally taking a good look at one another.

It’d been so long since they’d been together, alone, and they both needed a moment to ensure each other was alright. The tiny room went quiet, both their wild grins disappearing as three months of survival caught up to them. He crumpled first, face drawing grim as he met her pained gaze.

“I…I thought I was never going to see you again,” he roughly informed her, eyes dropping. “I thought—even if I did, you’d probably be in a casket. Or worse.”

That risk had come with every task Val sent her on, yet this…this’d been different. Paz could barely remember the night everything changed but she could tell just by looking at Sam he’d replayed it over and over in his mind. Fuck, she’d scared him so badly. Her lower lip jutted, heart aching as she stepped closer to wrap her arms around his waist.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, hugging him hard and enjoying the feel of his own arms closing around her. “I didn’t…I swear, I had no idea any of _this_ would happen.”

“I know.” He’d gone just as quiet, head ducked over hers and breathing her in. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything to help. Gods, I can’t even…can’t even imagine how they managed prodding you in here.”

She knew what he meant—she obviously wouldn’t have taken this lying down and for the record she hadn’t—but they’d talk about that later. Instead, she tentatively smiled into his shirt (borrowed from somewhere, apparently).

“Don’t worry. I made them work for it. But, the only reason I agreed to _anything_ was cos they said I’d go home once I was done doing whatever they wanted.”

She could tell he was making a face. “And you believe them— _him_?”

Ah, he’d heard more than enough of who captained the Lakai, then. Paz shrugged. “Well, if they didn’t…I mean, I’d get my way.”

At least he huffed a slight laugh, aware she’d hold Coram to his word if he dared double-cross her.

“Gods. I knew I shouldn’t have worried but I just…” Trailing off, Sam inhaled her heavily, arms tightening. Paz relaxed into him, his warmth and familiarity feeding into something that’d long been tense inside of her.”

“Can’t believe you’re here,” she muttered, words muffled. “ _Here_. And you tangled with Triads?”

“You jealous?”

“A little.”

“Just a little?”

She was giggling now, heart swelling with happiness. Everything was crashing back to normalcy within her. “Man, you gotta tell me all about Tauri. I can’t believe they took you there.”

After a moment Sam finally obliged. They settled on the floor while he told her every detail, Paz soaking in every word though hardly paying attention. All she cared about was he was here with her. Just listening soothed her soul, helping ignore the cloud that was Val and everything else she didn’t want to think about or address.

Sam was here, and he was okay. He’d even brought the rest of her crew—well, the good part, apparently. Quickly and easily, very little else mattered.

She sort of liked that. To her, it was just like old times, before everything had happened. Before the captain had thrown her into this bullshit.

His ping was forgotten, for now.


	56. Ch 54

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No mission is ever complete without a post-visit to Aim, and of course Paz isn't happy about it.

She told him about Centurion Alpha, and Beta. She told him a bit about Hiduron, too, but Sam had heard about that debacle from Reeser already, so there wasn’t much more to add. She talked for hours covering the weird little things learned on her excursions from Lakai, and yet…she skimmed over two things, both which she wasn’t sure why but couldn’t help.

One, which she was somehow still ashamed of, she left out any bits that played up Coram’s importance. It was very clear almost immediately that Sam hated the captain and he hadn’t even met him. Fair, honestly—she’d feel the same way in his position. So Paz didn’t bring him up much and chalked up her saving his ass being about going home. Because that’s exactly what it’d been about. Obviously.

Secondly, she didn’t tell him the whole thing about…you know, Hylerians, and what the Nav did with them. It wasn’t…it made her sick thinking about it so she just didn’t.

Sam was surprised about her father. He connected the dots pretty easily though, concluding that was why the Lakai set its sight on her. She was glad he’d concluded that because she’d been around the Lakai for a while and yeah, that made sense. Why _she_ hadn’t understood that was probably because she hadn’t cared. She guessed she’d…known. It just hadn’t hit her. Like a lot of things.

Regardless, those two issues she didn’t linger on.

He was a little nervous about the Nav. A bounty already sat on Sam’s head, something she vaguely recalled Fiala mentioning, which now made sense given he’d fled Val by the time she and Reeser had visited.

But, they’d deal with the Nav later, if they had to at all. For now they had the Lakai to address. Like her, Sam saw very little reason to stay (the _only_ reason she wanted to was for her own carnal needs, which was _not_ a valid reason). The only thing they could both come up with was remaining here would help them weather the storm that was Val, and the Nav, which would take some time to blow over. Thus, as much as she hated to do it, she agreed on talking to the captain about temporary shelter.

Later. After hours of filling one another in she’d finally taken Sam back to her room. There they merely lay with one another, basking in the completion that was them being together. Playlists were traded back and forth, and deep admissions were made on both their parts. It was difficult to describe, something she was sure a lot of people might not understand. Sam…he was the light to her dark, the fizzy drink to her lotus. Twining together was like a total recharge, a peace that couldn’t be found anywhere else no matter how much she boned.

She’d known him forever and loved him more dearly than anything else. Hurting him hurt her, which…sucked. It made her all the more aware that his business with her would only affect him negatively in the long run. Telling him so, while probably a good idea, wasn’t something she could stomach. Nobody else accepted her as she was, not like him.

They stayed together for far too long, longer than was likely necessary, but neither cared. There were things to catch up on both their ends, surprisingly none of it being sex, but that’d come later. This was different. This was just time to reacquaint, and they took full advantage of it. Sam memorized every new freckle on her face, and Paz…well, she lost herself in those dreamy green eyes with ease.

Until Reeser rudely shoved open her door, demanding she and Sam go see Aim for differing reasons. He missed a boot to his head but didn’t budge until Paz grudgingly did as he demanded, Sam following her in the process. The pilot acted as their guard until they’d reached the med bay, reminding Paz to speak with (ugh) Coram at her earliest convenience and also to Lonyn and Sentia when she had a chance—Sam was included in that meeting. He grumbled about her having to meet with the captain but, well, how else were they going to proceed?

Aim’s face was glowing when Paz stepped in, beaming from ear to ear. Paz had no idea why—she hadn’t been _that_ careful. To be fair, she was intact and conscious which was a marked improvement so maybe that had to do with it.

“Look at you,” the doctor trilled, way too excited. Seriously, Paz was almost wary. Aim had _hated_ her last time she’d been in the med bay. “Upright and breathing—what a nice change of pace.”

Offering the doctor a rude gesture, Paz shuffled inside Aim’s main office, grateful for Sam’s comforting presence at her back. Aim noticed, too, gaze flicking back and forth between the two as she ignored Paz’s behavior and pointed at an exam table.

“Up. Let’s get you checked out. I heard you have some stitching?”

“Stitches?” Sam echoed, clearly surprised.

Okay, so maybe she hadn’t told him every single little detail, but Paz had figured she’d tell him about fighting Noc when they were eventually undressed and she had to explain the sudden array of scars…everywhere. Jumping onto the table, she twisted around and offered him an apologetic smile.

“Ah, okay, so I may have gotten in a fight with some asshole, but Desh did a great job fixing up any injuries. They weren’t bad.”

Sam balked a moment before dropping back against the wall, spluttering, “I mean, you—you won, ye?”

“I did,” she cheerfully confirmed, proud of that at least, even if—no, she wasn’t thinking about her ‘family’ right now. That was done and over with. Without another thought she lowered her top’s strap, baring her shoulder. Desh’s stitches had kept her wound to a neat, already scabbing line. “See? Not bad.”

“Ye, after some time and a smart crew,” Aim mused under her breath, drawing to a cabinet while she pulled on gloves. A little louder she added, “I’m glad you heeded my warnings this time.”

Paz blinked innocently. “Hey, just doing what I’m here for. This trip was a whole lot easier.”

Lie. She didn’t know why she’d said it soon as it was out of her mouth. Paz’s gaze dropped to her shoulder, suddenly very aware of how bad it probably looked…along with the smattering of hickeys probably lining her neck if the ones on her shoulder were any indication. They _sort_ of looked like bruises. Ugh, how come the captain hadn’t—

“Desh said you could probably fix my comm,” she started, pulling up her top as casually as she could. When she looked up she made sure to address only Aim. “I currently have two. Is there any way the new one could merge with the old one?”

The look Aim returned wasn’t a good one. With both brows furrowed, she scanned Paz from top to bottom. “You return all banged up and _that’s_ what you’re concerned about?”

Well, it was pretty imperative she _not_ be walking around with Kamul’s specs, so…ye. Paz nodded. “Is it possible?”

Aim kept staring. “Maybe. Depends on how compatible—why do you think _I’d_ know how to do that? Your techy seems capable.”

“Desh said you would,” she insisted, head ducking and working the vulnerable face she liked to pull when she wanted something. Behind Aim, Sam cracked a smile; he always fell for it so he knew what she was doing. “And you seem to know everything so…”

Humming, the doctor’s eyes rolled. “Work on your flattery, dear. I _suppose_ I could take a look.”

Armed with a light and a tongue depressor (she’d heard where the comm was, then) Aim did just that. She poked around in Paz’s throat in the same way Rahm had done, though less kindly. While Paz gagged, Sam inched closer to stand on Aim’s left, both squinting into her open-wide mouth. She definitely didn’t feel weird about multiple people eyeing her esophagus, not at _all_.

“Why’d he stick it in there?” Sam wondered, likely meaning Guinto. “Ours are behind the ear, ye? On the skull?”

“Attached to the cranium over the temporal lobe, two holes drilled in, one for optical presence and the other for neurotransmission,” Aim calmly explained, holding Paz’s chin with a force she hadn’t felt lately. Ugh, she could _feel_ drool coming on. “Hardware runs off your bio-matter—and it’s pretty much fused after the first year so if it’s broken…”

“Then there’s a real problem,” Sam softly finished, unaware of how right he was. “But hers—you guys just shut it down, ye?”

Silent for a moment, Aim briefly glanced his way in approval. She liked _his_ questions, at least. “We did. Well— _I_ didn’t, personally, but ye. Prevented any ping tracking and cut off communication. Now, this one likely works in a similar fashion, but its placing makes me wonder…”

“How’s it connect?” Sam wondered, head tilting sideways, arms crossed in thought.

Paz’s comfort became a second thought, both the doctor and Sam going back and forth on how something that was both ancient and clearly meant to work on something else would cross the correct neurological pathways in order to work for their Hylerian patient. They had some good ideas, though none of them made both comms merge.

Paz could tell because she still only saw the Hylerian interface. She snarled a few times in consternation, back and jaw aching just like before. Aim paid her no mind but Sam soothed her with a promise they’d be done soon. That was fine and all but she was about to choke on her own tongue. At least he held her hand, squeezing affectionately while the doctor tilted her head back further, depressor scraping along the insides of her burning throat like she was trying to collect something.

Apparently that was exactly the case. Peddling backward, Aim studied the stick only a few centimeters from her nose, upper lip curled in disgust. She and Sam fell silent, staring at a tarry black substance covering the end. Paz also eyed it with some disdain, though she was more concerned with rubbing her jaw and finding some water. If that buildup had come from her then maybe it _was_ a good idea to shower. Maybe just sit under the spigot and gargle over and over?

“The fuck is that?” she managed croaking, hand pulling from Sam’s to massage her neck.

Breaking focus, Aim glanced to her and then Sam. A second later her keen eyes were back on the stick, eyelids fluttering. She was on her comm. Paz frowned.

“What? Does the comm look like it could work with the other one?”

“I—.” Stopping herself, the doctor shut her mouth, then took a few more steps back. She hit the door before it occurred to her she should maybe pay attention to her surroundings. Chest inflating, she didn’t bother addressing the other two, scrabbling open the door instead and sliding into the hall without another word. Sam and Paz watched her go, both more than a little confused.

“She doesn’t know how to do it, does she?” Paz guessed, swallowing hard. She didn’t taste anything, or feel anything in her throat. Nodding in agreement, Sam hopped up on the table with her.

“Doesn’t seem like it, but that _was_ weird.” He slung an arm over her shoulders, drawing her close enough to press a kiss to her crown. “We’ll figure something out. Worst case scenario we could remove that one. There are a couple pins that look like we could hook it and fish it out.”

The idea made her want to vomit but Paz nodded, leaning into him once more. She supposed she should be concerned about what Aim found but with no explanation she just…didn’t care. Why would she when Sam was here? The Hylerian problem, that goop, or anything else she didn’t want to think about…they weren’t her responsibility any longer. Even if they stayed for a while she’d been relieved of her duties.

Once again, her crew had become the epicenter of her universe, and unless she was physically ripped away that wasn’t going to change.


	57. Ch 55

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well whaddaya know, Paz isn't the only Hylerian who can be a hormonal bitch ;)

To his credit the captain allowed just over twenty-four hours to pass before summoning Paz once more. By then she’d showered, grabbed morsels from Sam’s tray in the cafeteria, reacquainted herself with his wonderful body, slept some, _and_ met with the rest of the Osiris crew to ensure they were all on the same page. She’d been busy, but it felt good knowing her own crew stood by her.

Now, _why_ they’d bothered was still a mystery but she wasn’t going to question the miracle of their ability to find her.

She’d ask about it later, eventually—if she remembered. For now she made herself trudge to Coram’s office after promising Sam she’d be back soon, intent on working out some kind of deal to keep her crew safe for the time being. The captain would be reasonable. He had to be. She tried to make herself believe that before pausing at the usual door she always ended in front of, her body working itself up in the meantime. Ugh, _why_ had she been so stupid about him?

“You can do this,” she whispered, breathing deep as she swiftly knocked. It was just a chat; a business chat at that. All she had to do was keep her word and pretend nothing happened. He’d do the same.

He would. He knew where they stood. Right?

_Ye, right. Just be on your best behavior_.

Someone grunted to come in. Bracing herself, Paz slid open the partition and stepped in, stopping just inside the threshold to blink and stare at two strange faces. The one across the desk and keeping his head down she presumed to be Coram—ugh, she’d have to get used to his business voice while it came from an unassuming blonde with dull blue eyes and skin just a touch radiated. She really, _really_ didn’t like his face. Desh on the other hand leaned against the wall to her left, and he’d put on something much more handsome. It put a smile on her face real quick. He looked like an actor, all chiseled jaw and dark features complimenting grey eyes and silvery beige—

“You copied my hair!” she exclaimed, reaching to her ponytail like that might somehow verify everything. Desh flashed his teeth—incredibly straight and bleached. She hadn’t realized mods went that far but, well…it made sense.

“I was curious what it’d look like,” he simply admitted, arms crossing before jutting his chin at the chairs before Coram’s desk. It was still a mess, just like they’d left it. “Sit.”

His tone was at least friendlier than previously. Pulling a face anyway, Paz sank into her usual chair on the right, politely clasping both hands in her lap. Before her Coram looked over a table, still ignoring her. Lovely. She cleared her throat before diving in.

“I know I’m supposed to be gone but I’m sure you guys have heard things changed and my crew’s here—well, most of them. Thank you guys for not killing them, super appreciate that. Would it be possible to…stay here for a bit, too? Just to lay low. They’re willing to work—up to a point—and it wouldn’t be long. Just, you know, long enough for the Nav to settle down.” Since neither protested Paz quickly added, “And we have credits—er, we could get them. So…procuring a ship wouldn’t be a problem.”

That was the agreed-upon speech she, Sam, and the others had come up with earlier. It was short and sweet and covered all their bases. Also, it threw in credits for good measure. Nobody turned down credit negotiations. Being pirates and all, the Lakai obviously spoke that language.

For a long moment, the captain said nothing. Then his fists drew closer to his chest on the desk and he exhaled like this was taxing. If Desh wasn’t there she’d laugh; he didn’t know how hard it’d been just to get her ass in here.

“Deal was you’d be gone by now. Your crew boarded without permission and damaged our hangar.”

Oh, that voice was so difficult to hear coming out of his mouth. Paz did her best not to sneer, mouth zipped shut since he clearly had more to say.

Yet it was as awful as she’d anxiously assumed. Coram deigned to actually look at her, which was the most unnerving part because she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. The time she’d spent with Sam had temporarily blinded her and now she didn’t remember his tells, not like that would work really well in here.

“So long as they’re willing to work I suppose we can play host,” he decided, each word tinged with…disgust? Paz wasn’t sure. “Your tech, Sentia, better be willing to share her techniques with my staff, and Ms. Avery should expect the same with my pilots. Aim would like your—the _other_ Omorin in the labs, which leaves…you. How would you like to make yourself useful until further notice, Topaz?”

Ugh, she so didn’t like his belittling tone, or anything about him at the moment. She also hadn’t known Lonyn’s full name until yesterday, so it was strange to hear coming from Coram.

Look, sometimes there were things she picked up on, other times…not so much.

Fingers twining together, Paz dropped her gaze to her lap. She hated this. It wasn’t fair, but it’d give them a haven. She still hated it—she’d _won_. She’d been granted freedom and now it was being taken away. Temporarily, but still.

“Well,” she idly mused, trying to make it sound as casual as possible, “I’d probably be available for some treasure hunting. If, you know, you still need that service. If not I can also…file, pretty good, or clean. Or whatever you need done. Long as it’s not technical I can probably do it.”

“You’re offering your services?”

Why did it sound dirty when _he_ said it? Paz glanced up to Desh, afraid if she looked to Coram she might lose her cool. This was _not_ what she’d expected coming in here, and at least Desh was nice to look at but his former smile was gone, rendering him just as unreadable as the captain.

“I mean, ye,” she gingerly clarified. “I preferably wouldn’t want to go on a rampage or anything, but if it needs to be done…”

“Pretty sure you were dying to get out of here,” Coram accused, which wasn’t entirely true but she wasn’t going to argue, or even whip her head to glare at him no matter how much she wanted to. “You didn’t care about the artifacts, ye? So why, beyond the fact that you can’t be near _anything_ that’ll recognize you, would I have you do that? Or ask anything of you that requires your expertise?”

He was being a dick. That wasn’t new but for whatever reason it kind of stung. Paz did her best to ignore his sharp tone, reminding herself nothing had happened between them. This was normal. She could do this.

“Like I said; super good at cleaning, too. I don’t mind. Manual labor keeps me busy.”

“I wan’t want you on my ship, or in my crew,” the captain announced, and it was a good thing she was only looking at Desh because his nice face somewhat mollified her. Paz was still as a rock while Coram continued, heart thrumming in her veins. Why did it feel like she was being punished? “You put us in danger on Alpha, and Beta. Your refusal to cooperate made that happen. It worked out, sure, but not because you tried to stick to our plan. I’m grateful for your aid but it wouldn’t have been needed if you’d listened to me. So, let’s see—no, you’re not working with _any_ of my crew members, or going on any hunts. I don’t want you touching our shit, either. Your crew can stay so long as you keep to yourself—in your room. Or the showers, or the cafeteria. That’s it.”

If he’d shot her it would’ve hurt less. Frozen, Paz put every single ounce of effort into not lashing out. She wanted to throw the desk at him again. She wanted to scream as him for being an asshole and that he was only doing this because he…what? What the fuck was his problem? Like he’d said it all worked out! She’d _removed_ him from the Nav and provided not only multiple artifacts but a hell of a lot of information he hadn’t asked for but gladly drank up. Fuck, she wanted to crawl out of her skin but she couldn’t. All she could do was stare at Desh’s too pretty face and will the shaking in her veins, her very core, to stay there. If she didn’t, she’d probably murder the captain and then nobody won.

When she blinked she found Desh had those pretty eyes scrunched shut, frowning deeply. Ah, wonderful—he was a coward, too. Fine. Fine, she could deal with this. She could put up with their bullshit if it meant her crew was given refuge. It was what they’d agreed upon, and there’d been worse injustices.

Never mind there’d been a moment where they’d been working very smoothly as a team, or joking on the way home to the Lakai. None of that mattered, apparently.

“Okay,” she huffed, the word coming out much more toothless than she’d meant. “I’ll keep to myself.”

And, because it was the only other thing she could think of, she quickly added, “Thank you for letting them stay.”

Silence. Neither guy said anything, which…wasn’t what she’d been expecting. Paz rose and exited immediately after, partly because that was the shortest damned ‘meeting’ ever and also because she still definitely wanted to punch or claw something, and that would probably negate their deal. For her crew (okay for Sam), she would behave.

No one followed or called her back, which was great. She didn’t need any further interaction, especially not with that motherfucking asshole.

The second the door shut though she did find it satisfying to hear Desh loudly growl, “ _What the fuck was that_?”

Paz forced a smirk, but didn’t dawdle, hustling down the hall as quickly as she could. She had a room to hole up in, and a lot of really weird feelings to purge. A _lot_ , all of which were currently bubbling up her throat and she’d be damned if she ever let them out.

He could be a dick all he wanted. It didn’t matter what’d happened—she wasn’t going to crack, not this time.


	58. Ch 56

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know how if someone says something enough you start to believe it? Maybe Paz has had a complex this whole time :/

Honestly it didn’t take long for old habits to return and become the norm. With Sam around Paz found she didn’t mind being trapped in her room—much. He provided all sorts of entertainment when he was with her, and when he wasn’t she was…happily subdued with substances he’d already identified as ‘good’ in the med labs and filched for her. What they were she didn’t know nor care. They made her sink into her bed and never want to leave so she didn’t mind. No one did from her crew; she was so much easier to deal with when boneless and they all knew it.

Aim never brought up any missing resources, but she never brought up the weird thing she’d obtained from Paz, either. Sam had no idea what she’d done with that. He snooped around during his days in the med bay but the doctor hadn’t brought it up and acted like nothing had changed.

Again, Paz didn’t really care and hadn’t pressed him to find out more, instead happy enough to listen to him drone on and on about what the doctor had him looking at during his many hours working with her. And while he was there, she spent most of her time, from glo-rise to glo-set, pleasantly buzzed and nestled in the sheets. When Sam returned she’d essentially entangle herself with him and never let go. He encouraged it so…they didn’t stop this routine for probably a week or so.

She didn’t care about anything anymore. It was weird. Freeing, yet weird. She liked her normal routine, even if it did seem odd doing nothing when everyone else was clearly keeping busy. Lonyn she’d heard was having a good time sharing piloting knowledge and tips with Reeser, which made sense given their similar backgrounds. Apparently they knew more people in common in the Nav than either thought. Sentia on the other hand was diligently butting heads with Desh and some of the engineers aboard the Lakai. Sam of course enjoyed learning all sorts of interesting things in the labs with Aim. He’d even begun watching her do minor procedures, something Paz assumed he loved. He’d always wanted to learn that kind of shit, not languishing around a lab following the same exact recipe he’d been using for years.

Aside from the bit where the Lakai was definitely being looked for along with its crew and dumbass captain, they were actually enjoying their time here.

What bullshit. It wasn’t fair she was stuck on her own but she’d endure. Besides, Sam supplied her with enough substances to drown out any notion that things were going on outside her door. And he was such a comfort at her back when he was around, taking his position with Aim seriously.

There was only one thing he couldn’t make go away no matter how many kisses or hugs or reassurances that everything would be okay he gave. Paz tried not to think about _that_ but it was always somewhere in the back of her mind, eating away at her more than Val’s betrayal or Noc or anything else ever could. Goddamnit, she’d been so stupid about the captain.

In an attempt to drown out any lingering thoughts she spent most her time marinating in playlists when Sam was gone. No one had fixed her comm or warned her not to use it so she went ahead and made dozens of lengthy lists, combining them with the ones Sam had curated, catching up on vids and consuming just literally everything that’d hold her attention for more than a few seconds. She kept to herself, adamant on behaving enough so they might one day leave.

To where, she had no idea, but there’d be no Hylerians wherever they went. Fuck Hylerians.

At least a week and a half into this, her soak in all things media and substance related was interrupted when someone rapped on her door. It was too early for Sam to return and Paz couldn’t sense who it might be, not with whatever she’d just consumed about an hour earlier. Practically a puddle on one corner of the bed, it took her a good moment to work up the motivation and answer, and even then she was feeling shy so all she managed was a meek squeak to hold on while she stumbled to the floor and dazedly searched for some clothes. Another minute and she at least had a shirt on (Sam’s), carefully smacking her cheeks with both palms to gain some color and look, you know, normal. Oh, she hadn’t really stood upright for long in a while so this’d be good. Hopefully it wasn’t—

She slid open the door before her brain could finish that dumb thought, dully blinking up at Desh’s new, pretty face. He glared right back down his nose at her, taking up the entire frame with his usual no-nonsense stance. Relieved it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle at the moment she slowly flashed her teeth, head angling in question.

“Thought I wasn’t supposed to fraternize or whatever,” she joked, though it fell flat. Sneering halfheartedly, Desh glanced over her to the unmade bed and then down to her rumpled shirt.

“You just get up?”

Sucking on her numb teeth, Paz stepped back and shrugged. Did it matter? She ignored the question along with the realization of what she’d likely been occupied with this whole time that crossed his face. Least he didn’t start demanding where she’d gotten it, exhaling heavily instead and inching just beyond the threshold, door sliding shut after him. Dizzy, Paz lowered to the floor and crossed her legs, waiting for him to say whatever he’d come to say. Probably to reinforce rules or whatever. She didn’t care. Had she mentioned that? She really didn’t. It was so weird, feeling this apathetic.

“I—.” Pausing, Desh’s eyes fixed on the ceiling, dented panels making him frown more. “Ah…I wanted to talk to you about…keeping up with your training. Did you—.” He jerked his chin at the panels. “You did that beforehand, ye?”

Paz proudly confirmed the ceiling panels had indeed been ruined by her, and then put back at some point to keep boredom at bay. It’d been like one giant puzzle making those fit once more.

“Don’t worry; I’ve kept my hands to myself lately,” she teasingly assured, only looking up for a bit. It was too hard to keep her neck craned. “Um, I guess I’m done. Thanks for, you know, trying on the way back.” Every word was smaller and smaller in her throat and she kind of wanted to kick him out so she could return to her wallowing—er, idling.

And even though she didn’t see it she knew he was still frowning. “It doesn’t help if you stop and get out of practice.” She didn’t say anything so he went on after a slight huff. “When’s the last time you ate? Or…left?”

“I just showered,” she whined, pouting at the ground. His first question he’d need to clarify because one, she was still averse to eating anything from the Federation and if no one made her then she wasn’t going to ingest anything potentially laced with Hylerians because that was always going to be horrifying. Two, she’d consumed a good deal of things lately, just not that much…food.

Thankfully he’d moved on, one hand rubbing over his scalp as he kept glancing around like he couldn’t figure out what to actually focus on. “What I mean is, you’d likely benefit from some exercise. I could keep working with you, if you wanted. It’s not like we’re going anywhere for a while so…I’ll be around.”

Unconcerned with his discomfort, Paz dropped to her back, one arm stretching over her head while the other covered pulsing eyelids. “Really appreciate the pity but I have to abide by your bro’s rules. Thanks, though.”

“Who cares what he says?” Desh abruptly retorted, a temper she hadn’t heard in some time coming through. “You are your own god, Paz. Work on yourself. Make yourself that much more formidable while you can.”

Which was a very rousing pep talk and all but Paz merely snorted, snickering in contempt. He’d tried that route already. “Whatever. I’m not useful any longer, ye? So I’m gonna stay here and be a good little slave so we can eventually leave. You know I’m the only one who can jeopardize that so thanks, but no thanks. I’ve got like twenty shows to catch up on, anyway.”

“You’re such a lotus eater,” he grumbled, not bothering to be quiet about it. “What, you get comfortable and suddenly nothing matters?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Paz defensively exclaimed, staying right where she was. “And yes, I am. Was I not clear about that? I _don’t_ care.”

“But you cared enough to save his ass,” he pointed out, throwing that out there. Paz bristled, but listened. She did not like where this was headed. “You cared enough about your people being imprisoned, about people who shouldn’t even exist—”

“That’s different,” she snapped, wishing he’d stop talking. Her head hurt, spinning with fuzzy thoughts. “I didn’t—there was nothing better to do, ye? Besides, if I didn’t do anything I wouldn’t get to go home, so there.”

“Really?”

Muscles completely useless on the ground, Paz barely even shrugged her disinterest. “I don’t like your tone, bro. What do you want me to say?”

Desh, to his credit, seemed to understand this wasn’t going to go anywhere good. Squatting on his haunches, he set both fists on the ground. “I don’t care what you say. I _saw_ what you did. Fuck Coram. Fuck his rules, ye? Whatever this is, whatever you’re trying to make go away… Kid, this won’t help.”

Still half-dazed, Paz bit her lip and stayed quiet. He was trying to get her to come around, trying to coax her into the realization she was indeed being a waste of space, but he shouldn’t have bothered. Nothing mattered anymore, not now that she had her crew, and so long as she could behave they’d be gone soon and then…and then they’d…

What?

Maybe it was because she was out of it but the future was one giant, star-sucking void. She’d been reunited with Sam. What else was there to do? Find and murder Val? She didn’t want to do that, didn’t even want to think of her because it made her feel weird things under her skin. Screwing with the Nav wasn’t on her list of desirable things, either.

Maybe it was because she trusted him just a teeny tiny bit, but Paz went ahead and dropped her other arm behind her head, gaze fixating on the ceiling.

“I told you,” she softly informed him. “You guys picked the wrong Hylerian. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t _want_ any of it. I’m just doing what I can to survive, okay? Go save all the others, ye? Get that last key. Continue terrorizing the Nav. It’s not my business—I don’t care.”

“I think you do,” he countered. “I think you just wish you didn’t.”

It was like he’d read her mind—wait, _no_. _No_. That wasn’t the case. He was wrong. They were all wrong. Paz didn’t have the energy to fight though, so she rolled to her side and lowered her brows at him. “I don’t want to do this psychoanalyzing bullshit with you, too. I just…”

Again, just _what_? Paz had a tendency to feel lost when she had no mission, no goal, no direction. Wasn’t that normal? She generally used it as downtime, a way to relax and forget everything. Who didn’t do that?

“All I’m saying,” Desh carefully went on, “is you’d benefit if you did something else. Train with me. I’ll make sure you come back here tired as fuck every glo-set. Maybe it won’t do anything, but it’ll keep you busy. You want that, don’t you?”

_Yes_.

“No,” she promptly lied, though it wasn’t very convincing and they both knew it. Making his own face, Desh rose to his feet. He was huge, she realized, as she looked up from the floor.

“You and Cor are the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. _Ever_. You know that?” He waited just a step away regardless, one hand lowered to help her up. “Come on. Let’s get you sobered up. If you’re gonna survive out here then you need to make your own discipline.”

Mouth popping open just a little, Paz stared up at him like an idiot. Was he serious? Of all the stupid shit he’d said to her, that had to be the…

He had a point, which was unfortunate. Paz stared at his wavering fingers, stomach churning in a new way. He’d told her to keep his contact if nothing else. He’d promised he would get her out of Beta if things went to hell, and they definitely had. Much as they disliked one another he’d…given her something to do last time she’d gone and lost her temper with Coram, pushing her into lifting weights which had helped immensely on their last mission. Sure, he’d said some unkind things but she’d done the same. Guess it’d taken both proving themselves first to really…respect one another?

Nah, that wasn’t the right word, but she couldn’t exactly place what their relationship was. Whatever it was, she was afraid of losing it, she realized.

“I’ll let you down,” she plainly stated, already hyper-aware it’d happen, someway, somehow. “This is like, me on my best behavior, dude.”

“You can do better,” he disagreed, staring down at her like he saw right through her. “I’ve seen it. If it doesn’t work that’s on you, but you won’t know unless you try.”

Goddamnit, why was he so right? How many people had this conversion been touted to? Unable to be anything than herself, Paz rolled her eyes but stuck out her hands, ready to get up.

It wasn’t like she had anything better to do.


	59. Ch 57

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short little chapter. Desh is kind of turning out to be the MVP of the entire story lol :)

So, it turned out Desh was right on most accounts. Paz would never admit it, but…he was. Getting up and working her body did make things feel different. Maybe not better, but definitely different. More tolerable.

It was nice being able to hit her bed and sleep without her thoughts first racing. That solid ache in her muscles was a welcome distraction, too. And, of course, it was a fantastic feeling spending the majority of her day from her prison.

True to his word Desh ensured she was able to work out and take lessons from him in peace. No crew members ever came around to question what she was doing lifting weights or grappling with the captain’s second, though several new faces did gawk at the gym (if she’d seen them previously she had no idea). Paz took advantage of their time, drinking in every tip or trick Desh had and pushing herself to do just a little more every day in the gym, shaky arms be damned.

She was replacing one distraction for another, she realized that. It was still better than attempting to drown her own thoughts with anything she could find on her comm. When Desh was busy she did find other ways to keep busy, listing or messing with her comm to see what good it might do in the future. Her faux-mods were still pretty broken so they didn’t help much. She’d sent pings out to every contact on Kamul’s list including the one that’d warned her to be cautious—no response from any, or any indication they might still be around. Or, you know, alive.

The only real thing her comm helped with was some random research. Turned out the Krakat fuel depot she’d recalled several weeks ago was a hotspot for Nav patrols, something the more flagrant citizens of the Fed liked to speculate about. She personally found that interesting, tucking the connection away for now. It was to satisfy her own curiosity, nothing more. Since, of course, she had no intention of helping a certain person any more than necessary. If Desh ever asked she’d be free with her information but he didn’t, so she never brought it up.

She liked Desh a lot more than she ever thought she would. Too bad he wasn’t captain.

The one person who vocally objected to her getting swole in the gym was Sam, which was…weird. It wasn’t as if it affected him, but he did not seem enthused about Paz being away and working out until she returned, exhausted, to their room. At least once he sorely claimed this made her vulnerable, but as to how he’d never finished. They’d both been in bed at that point and she’d promptly passed out, body happy to surrender to thoughtless sleep.

Perhaps one other person objected. Paz had done everything she could not to think about Captain Dickhead but he was harder to ignore in person. An hour before glo-set one day she’d been taking Desh’s advice and attempting pull-ups on a rather high bar in the gym. Lifting herself up wasn’t that difficult in the first place (she had prior experience) but the technique he wanted her to do it by was annoying.

Spotting her from the side, Desh made sure to point out her flaws each time she struggled up. Sweating and red in the face, she kind of wanted to kick him with one of her wriggling legs. He was too far though and he knew what she was trying to do (it wasn’t the first time she’d attempted). When he snapped at her for the umpteenth time she snarled back and dropped to the padded ground with a thud, futilely wiping sweat from her brow.

“I’m doing it exactly like you told me!”

“No you’re not. If you were you wouldn’t look ready to pass out.”

Tired eyes shot his way, sure he was being a dick on purpose now, too. “Uh, excuse me—I’m not _that_ tall, ye? It isn’t like I can just lift from the mat.”

By now most gym occupants were either gone for a meal or settling in, meaning Desh didn’t need to be very quiet. He didn’t dare let her glare go, frowning hard as he stepped closer to her and the bar. One arm shot up, a fist wrapping around it. If he acknowledged his height made it any easier he didn’t show it, the other fist grabbing on as he let himself loosely hang.

“Watch,” he growled, already pulling himself up. It seemed effortless coming from someone like him. “You aren’t holding your core. Tuck it in, just like everything else, and then you won’t have dead weight.”

Huffing through her nostrils, Paz kept her mouth shut and watched him perform flawlessly. She _was_ doing the same thing—okay, maybe her legs were a little more wild than his, but she generally _used_ them while climbing. Here he expected her to keep them close and ugh, ‘tucked in’. Why did that sound so dumb coming from him?

“See?” he demanded, only slightly breathless after a few reps. He dropped to his feet, eyeing her petulant figure. “Easy.”

Tch, like he even knew what ‘easy’ meant. Arms crossed, Paz curled her upper lip. She debated a moment before stepping beneath the bar, chin tilted in defiance. Fine. She’d try it again, but if he dared bitch she’d find a way to kick him, preferably in the balls, even if she had to chase him down to do it.

Thoughts of nailing him in the groin went out her head though the second she felt a sweet tingle up her spine. Automatically Paz’s gaze shifted toward the gym entrance to find Coram paused in the threshold, like even he knew he should turn around. Briefly their eyes met and every single nerve in her body fluttered anxiously, fully expecting some sort of lecture or whatnot. Instead he simply stared. Even at a distance she could see his brow lowering, likely in contempt. Fuck, his new face was not one she enjoyed looking at yet there she was, doing just that.

_Fuck him._

Ye, as Desh had instructed. Attention reverting back to the bar, Paz broke their stare and reached both arms for the ceiling, fingertips not even grazing the metal. If Coram wanted to bitch he could take it up with his second. In the meantime she’d show him how productive she’d been, even if he hadn’t ordered it.

You know, once she had a hold of the bar.

Without a word, Desh lifted her up by the hips. Latching on, Paz kept her mouth shut tight while she hung for a moment, sore muscles and joints stretching. She’d show Coram how dedicated she could be when it wasn’t being crammed down her throat.

Tucking in her core, legs together and ankles firmly crossed, she pulled herself up in one swift movement. Oh, Desh was right—that was a lot easier. Surprised, she slowly dropped and did it again. And again. And again. A grim smile developed while she worked. She acknowledged her spotter with a grunt.

“Okay, fine. You’re right.”

To her left, Desh snorted. If he knew the captain was watching he didn’t address it. “Told you.” Knuckles rapt her aching abs, forcing them to contract. “Keep ‘em active, kid.”

Ugh, _kid_. Ignoring him, Paz kept her pace, up and down, breathing in time with her body’s movements. In between she managed copping a hazy glance toward the entryway, surprised it was still filled by the captain. Honestly she’d expected him to turn and run already but no, he was watching, one shoulder against the doorway as if this were the most casual thing ever.

The second he caught her gaze however he rolled those broad shoulders, that foreign face hardening into a scowl before he peeled off, disappearing in the hallway. Gaze flicking back to the ceiling, Paz shakily forced herself to do a few more lifts.

Just because she could.


	60. Ch 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Paz get into it over an issue that's probably never gonna go away, which leads Paz directly to captain d-bag.

“Why’re you still up?” Sam moodily inquired, sliding into their room several hours later. Exhausted as she was, Paz had still found time to shower and force some food down. She’d had every intention of falling into bed and passing out but that hadn’t happened yet and now she lounged on the mattress instead, wide awake and smiling at Sam while he shucked off his lab coat.

“Wanted to hang out,” she simply replied, slowly rising upright, hair falling around her bare shoulders. Sam’s gaze fell first on her relaxed face before traveling to her equally bare chest, stopping there to appreciate the view. A beat later he smirked, green eyes snapping back to hers.

“ _That_ kind of hang out?”

Well, she wasn’t opposed to it. Paz flashed her teeth. “If you’re in the mood. How was the lab?”

Making a face, Sam immediately launched into a long monologue regarding how slow things were with Aim, as if the idea she took her time to ensure their safety was somehow abhorrent. Paz found that odd, especially coming from him, but she happily snuggled up to him once he’d climbed in bed, idly listening while her fingers traced along his skin. It was better than her own thoughts, which had been looping since she’d left the gym. Something about the captain seeing her out and about made her…nervous, she guessed, and while she’d always stubbornly scoff at such a weakness it didn’t prevent her from obsessing over what he must’ve thought.

Ugh, she was such a pussy.

Luckily, Sam made it pretty easy to be distracted, putting her focus elsewhere while he relayed the days’ mundane events, then delved into a sweet session of cuddling which, obviously, ended up with her straddling his lap and coaxing soft grunts of approval out of him. Once they were spent she lay atop his damp chest, her flushed cheek pressed to one pec and listening to his pounding heart. It was always nice coupling with him. Everything about him was so familiar, a comfort she wouldn’t trade for anything. Well, _most_ anything. Ugh, they needed out of here before she did anything else really stupid. Even Desh couldn’t stop some of the truly dumb ideas floating through her brain.

“You okay?” Sam suddenly asked, soothing voice cutting into her idling. Surprised, Paz tilted her head to offer him a raised brow. He tried clarifying. “You know, as…well, okay as you can be. You’ve just been…diff—distant.”

Going still, she took a moment to let that sink in. Distant? Had she? It didn’t feel like it. Sure, there were some things she didn’t _want_ to divulge, but she hadn’t held back otherwise.

“What do you mean?” she inquired, gingerly rising from his chest to straddle him. “I don’t _feel_ distant.” This was accompanied with a soft giggle because it sounded silly. Sam didn’t really relax though. Below her he ran one palm up and down her left thigh, lips pursed in thought.

“I don’t know. It just…maybe we should’ve left already. Do you know when we will?”

Paz knew nothing (if anyone knew it’d probably be Sentia), and his answer had nothing to do with his accusation. Hands curling in the sheets, she carefully shook her head. “Nah. No one tells me anything. Why?”

“Well, you’re with that one guy all the time,” he started, and she knew just by his tone he was trying to keep his voice even. “He’d have an estimate, wouldn’t he? Have you asked?”

Should she have? Nobody seemed to mind what was going on, and it’d only been a couple weeks anyway. Moreover, she wasn’t ‘with that guy all the time’ and Sam knew it. Just when there was nothing else better to do. Did that bother him? It seemed like it did. She chose her response wisely, mostly because she’d never gotten this feeling from Sam before and the dumb part of her was somehow afraid of it. Damn, why was she being so weak lately?

“Nah.” Both hands proceeded to push through her hair and show off her assets. He generally responded to that. “Want me to? Desh said we’d train tomorrow afternoon. I’m getting really good at hooking a blow with my right arm.”

That was supposed to make him smile but he just frowned harder. “Man, why are you training with them? Paz, they’re professional murderers. Shelter or no, we should _not_ be dealing with them.”

“But they’re Hylerian.” Those stupid words were out before she even realized she’d opened her mouth. “I’m Hylerian. They won’t—”

“That has nothing to do with it,” he interrupted, finally glancing up to offer a pleading look. “We’re nothing like them, Paz. Sure we sell some product but that’s a _hell_ of a lot different compared to whatever their operation is. We don’t belong here, yet they’re trying to show you that _you_ do.”

What—no, no, _no_. He had it wrong. She’d already batted off the sordid attempts of conversion. The Hylerian cult or gang or whatever it was, it was not something she’d be joining. Paz quirked her head, heart beating quickly. Where was this coming from?

“Dude,” she started, the room beginning to close a bit in the background. “I’m not joining their team. They know this. My crew is _you_ —your crew. Besides, what else am I supposed to do while we’re here? I like working out.”

One of his arms swept to the rest of the room. “Can you not do that in here?”

Could she—a whole fucking _load_ of emotions pushed through Paz. She managed to keep her jaw ground shut but rage was making it incredibly difficult to really focus. One, she wanted to wring his neck for even suggesting she should stay isolated in here. It’d been _months_ and she’d managed staying out of the Lakai’s bullshit gang, thank you very much. Two, an alarmingly clear part of her reminded her that she usually stayed with him or in his room when she was on the Osiris, so why would he think she’d be okay with anything else? That notion didn’t sit well with her. _Had_ she been okay with it previously?

…Yes?

Damn. That sounded so pathetic. Well, normally it was because she’d be head-deep in lotus—

Wow, this conversation was absolutely nowhere where she expected it to be and she did not like the self-truths she was pulling out of her soul. Jerking back from Sam, Paz blinked and kicked both legs off the bed, quickly slipping down to the floor and looking for some clothes. “Pretty sure I’m not gonna turn into some nut job overnight, Sam.”

He huffed, legs swinging over the edge of the mattress, too, but staying there. “It just—it seems weird they told you to stay in here but then this guy’s pulled you out to teach you—what, how to fight better? _Why_? We don’t fight people, Paz, not like them. Why would you want to do that?”

_Because there’s a very good chance I might need to fight_ , she wanted to scream at him, which was weird because she’d gone from happy and relaxed to irate in less than a couple minutes. Besides, she’d told him about the Nav. Did he not understand they currently didn’t like her, not when she wore Kamul’s biometrics? Did he not hear about the part where another Hylerian fleet probably wasn’t pleased with her shoving a gun in their captain’s face? Knowing how to defend herself kind of seemed like a great thing to know right now, not just her usual schtick that entailed some lucky punches and overpowering people where she could. Not everyone could be dealt with that way, unfortunately.

Beyond that, had he forgotten who Val had sent on _so many_ kill orders in the past couple years?

Grabbing a shirt from the floor and hitching it on over shorts, Paz kept her back turned to him. Looking would make her lose her nerve. “Dude, let’s go over this in the morning. You’re tired, I’m tired—this isn’t gonna be a good conversation.”

“Do you want to stay?” he demanded, voice a little rough. It made Paz want to backtrack but… “I mean, Paz…we’re in this together, but if this is what you want…”

“You’re the only one who thinks that,” she snapped, quickly zipping to the door before she could help it. “Hold on—I need a minute.”

And then she slipped into the hall, slamming the door shut after her. Paz was not good at arguments, not with him anyway and especially when all she meant to do was ease his worries. Somehow though she’d brought all this other bullshit up instead. What the fuck had happened? Why was he so upset? She didn’t think he was jealous, not…like what people might assume. Right? Maybe she should ask. She’d only gone like ten meters, anyway.

_Just go back and ask. He’ll understand._

But what if he didn’t? What if he was… Fuck, she didn’t even know how to deal with him, with this. Why couldn’t they have stayed friends, not friends with benefits or whatever? The idea of being wrong, of leading him on and somehow not making things clear terrified her. Paz made no move to return however, instead jogging down the rest of the hall and rounding to a ladder that’d take her up another level. Dealing with emotions was absolutely not something she was good at, nor did she want to get good at them. She didn’t have the time or patience or attention span for bullshit like that—Sam _knew_ that.

As she pulled herself up to the common floor she vaguely recalled Fiala warning her this would happen. Fucking Fiala—an unending presence even in death. Paz stomped into the rec area with the huge star-viewing windows, jumping over a couch back and flopping onto well-worn cushions. Given it was well past glo-set any overhead lights were way low, making the blur of stars beyond that much more prominent. Listless on her back, Paz stared out while her nerves and heart calmed down.

What was wrong with her? Wasn’t it a good thing keeping occupied? If she didn’t she always found trouble. Always.

_Always_.

Maybe Sam was right. Maybe she should stay here (as if that were even an option) and leave him. Free him from her…her _volatile_ nature.

Soon as she thought that it occurred to her that was what Coram thought of her, too; what everyone thought. Normally she took pride in that but right now, it didn’t make her feel all that wonderful. Sobered by the idea, she relaxed. Slowly, she sat up to better study the stars and contemplate the ugly feeling brewing inside her.

She didn’t sense anything until a couple more lights filtered in from the hall, her own reflection staring back at her from the windows. Behind her Coram’s stoic figure took up the doorway. He really enjoyed blocking exits, she’d decided. Of course he’d show up, too, just when she was attempting to sort out her soul.

“You’re supposed to be in your room.”

Ah, ye, that. Figured he’d track her down for that when Desh wasn’t around. Paz rolled tired eyes. She did not need to deal with him, too.

“If it bothers you then float me,” she grumbled, legs tucking underneath her ass. _If not then fuck off_.

“I gave you that order for a reason,” he went on, words clipped. “I—”

“I get it,” she exclaimed, gaze narrowing at the dark windows. “I’m volatile. I won’t fucking break anything, okay? Just—give me a second.”

He did. Two seconds, actually. Then, “Who said you were volatile?”

Uh, herself? Paz didn’t think that was worth explaining. “That’s it. That’s what I am. I get it, don’t worry.” As an afterthought she added, “When should we be gone?”

She could’ve sworn he shook his head, the off-putting face scrunching up. “We’re still in deep. I wouldn’t recommend going anywhere for a while. Why do you think you’re volatile?”

Oh, she bet he thought he was clever trying to keep on in that vein. Paz didn’t respond because he hadn’t earned civility, not right now. Instead she sighed and slumped into the couch cushion. At this point she truly expected some sort of lecture and he didn’t disappoint, breaking from the door to quietly stalk closer.

“Who cares? You’re you. It’s all you can be.”

“Mm, not a good time to say that.”

“Why? Because it’s true? Who else would fucking electrocute themselves to get out of a bad spot? Who else would risk their own neck to pull someone like _me_ out of Nav hands? Focus on the bad shit all you want but your nature’s a good thing. It keeps you, keeps the people around you, alive.”

That was slightly better, but not much. Paz glanced away from his looming, mirrored figure. She wanted to ask him to drop the mods but…that would be a request, and she didn’t want to make those. “Great. Really helpful. Thanks.”

Quiet enveloped the large room for a few, long moments. Eventually Coram scrubbed at his face and rounded the couch. He didn’t dare step too close though, because he _was_ still a dickhead after all.

“I…” There truly wasn’t anything he could say that’d make up for his rejection and he seemed to realize that the second he sat down on her left, a good five meters away. “I’m sorry. I wish things were different.”

“You’re such a dick,” she exhaled, and he nodded along.

“Ye. I know.”

At least he admitted it.

Because she was a wreck internally, Paz admitted, “I didn’t know I fucked so much up, okay? Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he firmly, and quickly, replied. “Don’t ever be sorry. I’m a dick, I know, but you did everything you could. Be proud of that.”

No one else was though, which made it difficult to think that. Staring hard at the windows, Paz debated informing him how hard that was to swallow. She owed him no more information—nothing. It didn’t matter how close they’d been physically, didn’t matter she knew he did indeed have a sense of humor. There was no back-pedaling from what he’d said, how he’d brushed her off. She didn’t care if it was bravado. It was still rude as fuck.

And yes, she may have taken it personally no matter how many times she’d told herself it’d been nothing.

“I think there’s something wrong with me,” she muttered, maybe to him, maybe to herself, just to hear it out loud. “I mean, _I_ think I’m pretty great, but that fucks up everyone else’s ideas—yours, my crew’s…” Fiala and Val’s plans…a lot of people’s plans, actually.

The captain acknowledged what she said but didn’t argue, which she took to mean as true. Paz glanced down at her lap, fidgeting with her shirt hem. Sam’s shirt, because of course she’d pick one of his. After everything they’d been through together, with decades between them, how could she…

“And it feels like I’m hurting him just being here,” she quietly admitted. “I don’t want to, but I don’t know how to fix it, either.”

“Why do you have to fix anything?” the captain countered, words surprisingly gentle. “Why’s it your fault? You didn’t choose any of this, I know you didn’t, so why’s it only up to you?”

Because it was always—wait, no. Biting her lip, Paz focused on the thin line of thread. She did not enjoy when they attempted thinking for her. It was nice to know he understood none of this mess was her fault however. That alone made her smirk, just a little.

“Really. And who’s fault, exactly, is it?”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him fight to maintain that neutral mask, eyes crinkling instead.

“Mine.”

_Oh_ , that was so nice to hear. She could listen to him own up to his shit all the time. Too bad it didn’t change anything. The admission did, however, make her curious, and her attention focused on the couch space between them.

“Do you ever get sick of this? Having all these…masks?”

He seemed to know exactly what she meant because he blew out a long sigh, eyes shutting for a second. “Ye. But…it works. If I’m not a hard-ass then who’ll get shit done?”

No one, not in the way he wished. Paz let that sink in. Maybe…maybe she’d been wearing her own mask for ages. Not literally, not like a mod or anything. Just…the Hylerian she’d been before coming here didn’t seem to exist very much, not in ways she recalled, and she didn’t…want to go back. Maybe she didn’t want her mask anymore. Maybe that was what Sam was afraid of.

Tch, just because she was a little different didn’t mean she didn’t want him with her.

This conversation was becoming way too deep, even if it was only in her head. Untucking her legs, Paz moved to get up, arms stretching overhead. With one eye, Coram watched her movements but stayed where he was. She didn’t care what he did, padding to the windows. If Reeser was piloting he was going too fast to properly view the void. She’d complain, but it wouldn’t do any good.

“I didn’t ask to train with Desh,” she told the captain, wanting to make sure he knew that.

“I know,” he retorted, a little quieter than necessary. “We talked.”

Oh. “Good.”

Shifting her hips, Paz turned from the windows. Now was probably a good time to head back. She’d cooled off, head a little clearer than earlier. Glancing to Coram she found his attention still on her, though his eyes were blank. Deep down, a part of her understood why he’d wanted her stuck somewhere far away from where he’d be. She only knew it because she felt the same, unfortunately, which was absolute trash given his behavior. Sure, ye, she sucked a lot of the time, but he was on a different level. As Sam so eloquently put it, they were dealing with professional killers.

Spine straightening, Paz angled her head as she addressed him. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t think I’d be stuck here, either.”

“Don’t say it,” he started before she could, because ye, she was about to offer a worthless apology. He beat her, too, to the exit, swiftly rising and rounding the couches like he couldn’t stand to be near it. Or her.

While a lesser person might be offended, Paz leaned her back on the cool glass, eyes focused on his ass before he vanished, his orders to go away leaving with him. She sucked on her teeth, several opinions forming at once. In a moment she’d head back down the ladder to her and Sam’s room. She’d reassure him she wasn’t about to join a bunch of pirates, and things would be fine. He was just upset, she figured.

But the captain…she’d begun to think she didn’t disgust him.

Oh no, she’d begun to think he was _afraid_ of her, afraid of the kind of stupid it made him when he was around her. She only knew this because she’d just been as stupid, admitting all sorts of things to him like they were friends.

Ugh, _friends_. As if.

Lurching forward, she brushed off that notion and headed for the hall.

Sam was still awake when she pushed in through their door, and he appeared appropriately apologetic. He was already opening up the covers for her to climb in with him while she yanked off some of her clothing.

“I know you would never do it,” he immediately informed her, eyes on her while she shimmied out of her shorts. “I’m—I’m being stupid, thinking like that.”

Ah, so it wasn’t just the captain who was being an idiot. Paz kept her smile to herself before turning around and hopping onto the mattress with him. Sam kept what distance he could, careful not to crowd her until she was comfortable.

“I’m always in your crew,” she reminded him, hands snaking through the sheets to grab his. While he still sat up she’d quickly taken up residence at his side, leaning into him like a giant body pillow. “And you’re always in mine. Maybe…maybe things have changed, but that hasn’t.”

He exhaled through his nose, sinking into the mattress a little, fingers squeezing hers. “I know. And…you’re right. If I was you I’d be climbing the walls, too. I just…really wish we weren’t stuck with _these_ people.”

Frowning, Paz nuzzled his shoulder but didn’t say anything. There was no need to and besides, she really didn’t want to loop through this conversation again.

Their room went quiet for a while, Sam’s thumbs stroking over her palms and lulling her into a new peace. Paz could feel sleep on the horizon, which made her lean even further into him until they’d essentially slid to their backs. While her thoughts drifted in a subdued haze, she felt Sam’s muscles still tensing beneath her. It wasn’t much, but it was still there. He was thinking about something. She wanted to ask _him_ if he was okay.

He managed to say something first, a soft whisper weaving through her hair. “They’re doing something with huasca, Paz. I don’t know what, I don’t know how, but…they’re concentrating it into something that Aim won’t let me near, and I…really don’t want to get caught up in it.”

Eyes snapping wide open, Paz froze against Sam’s solid, warm, comforting body. Fiala (goddamn her _so much_ ) came to mind once more and it took a second to restart both her breathing and her brain.

Absom. She didn’t have to prod for more information to know what he referred to. She didn’t even need to know _how_ huasca and those little purple crystals she’d found in Aim’s lab fit together to know they were connected. She just had a sense, and as she slowly, rigidly shifted to better fit with him, she cleared her throat.

“Maybe they’re making a new substance?” she loftily suggested, voice smeared with exhaustion. She didn’t want to talk about this. She wanted to dismiss it and figure out all the pieces later, but obviously before they needed to truly worry. Underneath her however she could feel Sam’s shrug.

“I don’t think that’s what it is. Two of Aim’s assistants are in critical care from just _inhaling_ whatever this shit is. Whatever it is, it’s volatile.”

Yep, that was absom. Somewhere in this very room she still had her two little sample vials. In the moment Paz wanted to curse but refrained, doing her best to maintain some sense of calm instead. Seriously, she couldn’t think about this right now. She understood his worry now, definitely, but goddamn Fiala’s face was suddenly plastered all over her thoughts and she couldn’t handle it.

So she forced half a laugh from her throat and snuggled tighter. “We won’t be caught up. We’ll be out of here first sign of trouble—promise.”

Lie. That was a fucking lie. It seemed to soothe Sam’s concern, at least for now, because he didn’t add anything else. Laying there together, entwined like they were meant to be, she eventually heard his soft snores.

At least he could sleep. Paz held onto him like a vise, eyes wide and unfocused, a whole mess of facts and occurrences suddenly rearing in her head and clamoring for her attention.

Fuck. Fiala had been the huasca queen. They’d found an artifact—no, _key—_ of Hylerian origin at her home. And, it turned out huasca was being used to make absom.

How the fuck did this all fit together?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh you thought absom was a red-herring no-real-plot-value thing??? PSYCH!!


	61. Ch 59

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Can't-Let-Ish-Go decides to investigate the Lakai's supply of absom, and it does not go well.

What did Fiala have to do with absom? _Did_ she have anything to do with absom? Had she been the Lakai’s supplier? Sandova and Rahm had known of her, too. Had she supplied all their crews?

Paz’s thoughts looped around those questions over and over for days. When she was training with Desh she was thinking about it. When she and Sam were quietly going over his day in the lab after glo-set she was thinking about it. In the cafeteria over the only food choices she thought might contain the least amount of Hylerian matter, in the showers while scrubbing off…

Those questions were literally always on her mind.

Okay, so she may have made a teeny tiny mistake in killing Fiala. Paz never really thought about who she’d been ordered to kill before but Fiala… Something about her, her huasca, and the absom Sam alluded to but hadn’t seen were connected. She didn’t know how, nor did she personally want to find out.

And yet something in her gut propelled her to bring up an innocent request with Sam about a week after he’d told her his suspicions. In short, she needed a distraction. If he’d be so kind as to make one for her, she’d like to do some digging. Steeling more absom was dumb. No, she was going to verify it was as Sam said. Of course she believed his guess: they just needed to be sure. And since he wasn’t allowed to look at the process, well…she’d told Desh she was going to be busy the next day so she had time.

If she found anything of importance, that information was going straight to Sentia. Maybe they couldn’t do anything with this shit, or wouldn’t, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have an edge in the future.

Honestly, Paz was incredibly proud of herself for thinking ahead. Osiris’s Paz would never do such a thing, not this planned out anyway, so Sam could moan all he wanted but _some_ good things had come out of her being here. Mainly, he was free— _they_ were free—and she’d become a lot more rational.

Well, as rational as she felt like.

In agreement, Sam had her accompany him to the med bay soon after glo-rise the next day. Doing her best to appear tired and bored as fuck, Paz dully trailed him like a shadow. Aim noticed her straight away, which was fine. Soon as Sam swung into the main lab the doctor’s keen eyes honed in on Paz, a tight smile crossing her face. Along with her secrecy about the absom she’d never mentioned that stuff she’d found in Paz’s throat, either.

“A surprise seeing you here. How goes moping?”

Undeterred, Paz flashed her teeth. All she needed was to be _in_ the lab. Last time she’d gotten lucky finding samples; this time she was hoping to find more. “Nice to see you, too. I just wanted to see what Sam was up to. Sounds like you’re teaching him a lot.”

Automatically the doctor’s gaze snapped to Sam. She didn’t say anything but it was clear she didn’t enjoy hearing that. Paz kept her brilliant smile. Her senses weren’t picking anything up, not in here. If absom or huasca was around they weren’t leaving it lying out in the open any longer. Maybe they’d noticed when she’d taken the samples. Aim wasn’t exactly stupid.

Silence stretched between the three, leading Sam to clear his throat and nudge Paz in the hip. Now it was up to him to keep the doctor busy.

“Maybe I can show you around later. There are a couple things I usually do first.”

“Oh.” Easily drumming up a pissy aura, Paz frowned like it wasn’t fair. “Fine. See you later, then.”

She stomped off and Sam called for her but she offered a rude gesture in return before exiting the lab. At first she turned for the hall but the second she heard Sam shuffling in the lab to get closer to Aim (and block her view) she abruptly twisted, dodging deeper into the med bay instead. No one would be around, no one with any capacity at least. Per Sam both the doctor’s other assistants were out in critical care, a machine breathing for them until their lungs healed.

_That_ was what absom could do. They needed to know how to protect themselves against it, or at least figure out what the Lakai intended to do with it. Or…find out where it’d come from. Paz just wanted to figure this out because she had no idea what was going on with the Lakai’s side project, apparently.

Behind her Sam started asking doubtful questions, all of them designed to keep Aim busy. “She’s been acting…weird, lately. Like, really moody. Is that a Hylerian thing?”

Good man. Paz left him to it, carefully diving into the depths of the bay and sweeping into a supply closet with the softest closure of the door she could muster. Sam would ping her if they moved—she so loved that they could ping each other again.

The supply closet was huge. Twisting around, Paz surveyed a dozen tall shelves reaching to the ceiling. Her heart pounded while she searched for that _volatile_ sense, still as a statue. Nothing. Not even an inkling of the huasca he said they supposedly had. She wondered if it was raw product or boiled-down syrup. Sam hadn’t been clear. It wasn’t surprising either that nothing valuable was in the closet given it wasn’t secured, but still worth checking.

Nothing worthwhile in the closet at all, actually, though Paz did linger on a stock of painkillers. She’d take them with her if she wasn’t in a hurry, and also figured the Lakai might need those in the future. Badly. Desh at the very least deserved that. And Reeser, though he wasn’t nearly as friendly as before. She’d avoided him for various reasons, a lot of them having to do with Lonyn and him spending the majority of their time together and not wanting a third wheel.

Returning to the door, she closed her eyes and cleared any lingering thoughts. Absom. Huasca. All she wanted were the ingredients or anything relating to it, just to see what she might find out, and perhaps to report something back for Sentia and Lonyn. The idea was they’d maybe learn how to protect themselves from it, detect it, or even determine which quadrants to avoid if the Lakai actually planned on using it. Paz didn’t really need a sample for evidence—she already had her own. This was to hopefully figure out what’d been going on while she was distracted with the goddamned keys.

_Where is it, where is it, where is it…_

Somewhere far to the right. She could feel it. Paz frowned. That was where patient rooms were; she’d been locked up in at least two of them. Why’d it be in—ah, security. They knew someone had been in their property. Given no one had held her upside down and shaken her by the ankles to get it back she figured they didn’t suspect her.

Great. All that working out had really paid off, keeping her toned and giving her an alibi should anyone ever question her.

She was thinking way too deeply about the samples. Pinging Sam, Paz waited until he signaled it was clear. A moment later she was out, door snicking shut while she veered to the right and started a renewed search. There were four private rooms, all shut and locked. The two holding patients she avoided, creeping to the last one in the row. It was, of course, locked, but also devoid of anything living and radiating that sense of absom. Perfect. Now, to open it.

Always the logical planner, Sam had thought ahead (yes, okay, maybe he’d had a lot of input in this idea). He’d filched a small tool from one of the many in the med bay’s arsenal. Producing it from her shirt, Paz dug into the little notch on the door, forgoing the clearance panel entirely. She had no way of opening it that way, and popping the lock would be less noticeable. They’d already tried it on her door several times.

It was almost too easy. Paz pushed open the partition and slipped through before she could have any second thoughts.

Oh, and she had _many_ thoughts soon as she shut it behind her. A noxious, earthy scent hit her first, the smell of concentrated huasca thick in the air. Overhead lights went on and she found herself face to face with an endless supply of clear, stacked crates, all of the ones before her filled with cut and wilted huasca. The sheer amount made her freeze, choking at the sight. Some of it looked viable for turning it into its pilled, psychoactive form, but so much of it? They could do a lot with this quantity.

Shit. This was a lot of raw material. She couldn’t even take more than a few steps inside. They hadn’t accounted for this. Sam pinged her they were now in another area. She had some time to find whatever absom and relating evidence might be in here but honestly it was going to take some work. At this point Paz merely wanted an invoice or like, a chart on what the Lakai’s nefarious plans were. Anything to determine how everything fit together.

Carefully picking her way into the fray she craned her neck, trying to see over the stacked crates. Cabinets lined the back wall, and when she glanced up she saw some awfully familiar imperfections on the metal paneling. This’d been the first room she’d woken in. Was there a reason for that? No, she was thinking too much into it. She only twisted to eye the reinforced air vent once, still proud she’d managed that.

Toward the back she discovered a small crate tucked in between several larger ones. It radiated that absom vibe, so it was either product or something relating to it. Banking on it, Paz waded over, working on moving containers elsewhere. Great of an actor as he was, Sam could only give her so much time. With that in mind she grabbed the metal crate soon as it was free and plopped it atop one at chest level, thumbs quickly flipping open the lid.

A bunch of loose, violety-beige powder was not what she’d been expecting. Huasca was a light green color in both its powder or pill form. This was not…huasca. Was _this_ absom? The shit she had in her room was more of a liquid. A quick whiff ensured there was that earthy huasca scent, but it was incredibly sharp, like it had something in it, something extraordinarily volatile.

Coughing, Paz jerked away and shut the lid, a puff of powder dusting the air. That wasn’t—huasca wasn’t _becoming_ absom, whatever it was; no, it was being used to mask the sharpness, hence there being no need to keep the other huasca cuts all around her in good shape. All they were using it for was something to add the absom to, because huasca did _not_ smell like that, even when rotting.

Still coughing (she couldn’t get it out of her throat), Paz blinked watering eyes and squinted around the rest of the room. _Was_ Fiala involved? Or had it been chance? But…the captain had known where the first artifact was in her home. How? She _had_ to have been involved, somehow. It didn’t really matter, but it still bothered Paz.

She’d killed Fiala for Val. Coram had been pissed about it, which she’d scoffed over at the time. Val never wanted anything to do with huasca, but Fiala’s dwindling orders of lotus had bothered the Osiris’s captain. Not enough to kill her until Fiala swindled them, but still. Val liked credits just as much as the queen of huasca. Getting in that game would’ve been a boon.

Unless she’d known something Fiala didn’t. Did…where were the Hylerians getting their credits? Looting and thieving, sure, but did they also distribute? Swallowing hard (ugh, it was _still_ in her now irritated throat), Paz made herself consider the first conversation she’d had with Coram. It was fuzzy but she recalled he’d alluded he moved and sold product. They’d danced around the topic like anyone would, but he’d sounded familiar with it.

A chill went up her spine and she tried not to breathe for a moment, some thoughts connecting. Did they plan on selling or using this shit? Or both? There wasn’t a lot of absom in that box but if it was so volatile then she had to imagine it could be stretched. Maybe what was in the box _had_ been stretched.

Man, whatever they intended this shit for, it’d be destructive.

Her eyes were watering badly now, stinging. Swiping at them with one arm, Paz backed up, face turning red. Her throat was on fire, demanding she cough but if she kept doing that she’d attract attention. Even her skin felt odd, giving her enough of a warning that she should exit, well, _now_. Fuck figuring this shit out; it wasn’t worth getting caught over. Agreeing with her body, she stumbled back to the door and pulled out her tool, jabbing at the lock with the skill of a quivering toddler.

It wasn’t opening. She was trying, sure, but it was hard to see through involuntary tears and the inane _need_ to let loose a torrent of choking coughs. Not yet. She’d do what she needed to do in a bit. Right now the door was more important. Sam hadn’t pinged they were anywhere else but at this point she didn’t care, heart beginning to pound at her sternum. The instant she forced the lock she shouldered open the door, whooshing into the empty med hall. Shutting the partition was a miracle. With everything back in place she quickly but quietly rushed for the exit, hurriedly pinging Sam to initiate a bigger distraction.

Because even if she refused to gasp for air she still couldn’t prevent herself from coughing.

Somewhere past her pounding ears she heard a crash from the labs, and then several curses. Dashing past them, Paz didn’t bother looking back. She burst out into the main hall, several unfamiliar Hylerians ambling in either direction. Feeling like she was being drowned while also ignoring her body’s own warnings, she pushed through the ones on her left and raced for the ladder down to her room.

Every step made her want to do several things (choke, vomit, claw at her watery eyes, etc.); she held those feelings in through sheer will, shouldering past way too many people to count and practically slipping down the nearest ladder. At that point her skin was also on fire around her wrists and fingers and holy fuck she was going to die, wasn’t she? _How fucking stupid could she have been_?! Aim had said it could be dangerous, but all she’d done was take a whiff! Was absom really that powerful? What about her samples? Were crystals more concentrated? Fuck, she didn’t have time to think about that, pounding down the hall on memory.

She slammed inside her room like she was being chased, yanking the door shut. Isolation hit and an eruption of painful coughing and spluttering pushed from her throat and chest. Dropping on all fours, Paz let it out— _all_ of it. Tears fell, her throat closing in on itself, skin burning and intensifying as it crept down her limbs to her torso. Holy fuck, she was on fire. _Everything_ was on fire and she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything to make it better. Her tears and snot weren’t even doing anything. Fuck.

Sam. She needed Sam. Pinging him was impossible though, not when she couldn’t concentrate. Collapsing on one side, Paz couldn’t help curling in on herself. She was dying, had to be. She couldn’t—couldn’t fucking do anything! All she could do was shiver, convulsing with each chest-compressing cough. The floor didn’t feel like the floor any longer, more like a suggestion than a physical thing holding her up. Eyes swollen shut, her irises still blindly searched every which way through shuddering bursts of color. Her comm was a blurry smear she couldn’t begin to decipher. Fuck, fuck fuck; she was going to die like some goddamned user just because she’d sniffed a little too hard. What an idiotic way to go.

Luckily, the void’s comforting darkness pulled her in before she could venture any further with her miserable, selfish pity.

X

Chirping echoed around her. No, not chirping, but…soft, lilting words. Somewhere out there, she heard it. Listless in a pitch-black cocoon, Paz opened one eye anyway, curious about the source. The void embraced her tighter, like a million hands smoothing over her skin, pulling her down into a place she intuitively knew she shouldn’t go but couldn’t prevent. To be honest she didn’t care.

She’d always loved the void.

It felt so insanely good to have someone—some _thing_ holding her in such an intimate way. Even Sam couldn’t do it in this manner. One person could; she wasn’t thinking about him right now though. No, her mind was near blank with a pleasant, numbing buzz.

Those soft murmurs still drifted nearby. She saw nothing. Relaxing, she shut her eye and took in a nice, painless breath. She could stay here forever.

_I know what you are_. That was the chirping, though it didn’t really…sound like chirping, not in her head. Paz barely stirred. _You have my lifeblood_.

Mm, sure. She paid it little mind, turning with the void’s shifting.

_Come to me. Traverse my skin and find the key. Bring them to me._

What? No. She wasn’t discussing this nonsense, definitely not here. This was _her_ void. She was safe here. Whatever this fucker was it could go haunt someone else. Maybe Coram. He’d probably enjoy it.

“I can’t,” she halfheartedly declined, the words floating and mingling with the chirping. Beneath her the void’s hands loosened, a cool, watery sensation covering her instead. “I’m done with that shit.”

_I decide when you’re finished_.

The water was no longer a comfort. Paz’s body was slowly sinking into nothing. Eyes open, she darted her attention every which way. She was still alone, and this _thing_ was pissing her off, ruining the void’s eternal peace. “Uh, nah. Did you not hear me? I’m _done_.”

The water pressed at her, pushing in, fighting for her mouth. Startling, Paz thrashed in an attempt to pull herself out of its grasp. She had no idea which way was up, only that she was being dragged down.

_You began this. You will finish it._

Paz of course did not respond well to threats but she was having trouble doing more than wildly flailing in the void’s cloying hold, vainly searching for an escape.

_You will_.

No. No, she wouldn’t; she could hardly keep herself gasping for air at the moment. If this _thing_ found her panicked calls for help weak it didn’t address it, further pulling at her ankles in an ethereal grip and forcing her beneath the frigid surface, plunging into a type of nothingness that shouldn’t exist. Paz immediately choked on the void, its influence shoving down her throat and spreading like some kind of disease in her veins.

_Do it_.

It was whispering in her panicking head now, the chirps and her shouts gone. Paz’s fingers splayed, desperate to grab onto something, anything, but there was nothing.

And that nothing was everything.

_Do it_.

Do _what_? She couldn’t think, couldn’t stop tripping, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t—

_You know. I helped you once—you will offer the same courtesy_.

Oh. _Oh_. Fuck. She knew what was jabbering now, knew the sensation pinning her in the void’s depths. Going still, every bit of fear and terror fled her body to be replaced with morbid understanding. The artifacts _were_ something. She had no idea what, but they held something, something that could reach her. It had helped her back in Beta, and she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it but it had.

And now it wanted payment.

Her body made the decision, chin bobbing up and down in a nod. Immediately the void’s hold loosened, that sweet stroking sensation climbing up her neck and over her brow.

_Good. Now, get out of here_.

X

Both eyes snapped open, the grated floor coming into focus. Several articles of clothing were strewn nearby, some speckled with a dark stain she had no energy to think about. Completely boneless, Paz blearily stared at one of Sam’s shirts, hardly daring to take a breath. When she did it was a deep, clean pull of air. No choking, no irritation. Exhausted as she felt, it wasn’t the same as before. She’d been having some kind of fit, so close to choking on her own tongue.

Hadn’t she?

Slowly righting herself, her head reeled while she examined both weak arms. They looked fine, felt fine. _She_ felt okay, if a little tired. Even her heart was beating a soft, steady rhythm. What the fuck had just happened?

Scooting back to the nearest wall she leaned into it, eyes wide as she took in her quiet, empty room. A dozen pings vied for her attention in her peripheral but she ignored them for now. Instead, she silently shook her head.

No. No, she wasn’t going to do it. Whatever that thing was it couldn’t make her do it. She knew she’d promised Guinto she would try but that…that was before everything else had happened. Before she’d seen these stupid connections. Before she’d witnessed Beta’s secrets. Before her crew had returned—well, most of them.

She had other plans now, other issues to deal with. That thing could find someone else.

Her chest squeezed painfully at the idea.


	62. Ch 60

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh, I don't think Paz got the memo about the meeting :/  
> Also, yes: Lonyn and Reeser have been getting along quite famously.

Sam gathered Sentia and Lonyn after glo-set and they all crammed into Lonyn’s designated room to discuss what was aboard the Lakai and what it could mean for them. Unfortunately, Paz didn’t have any further evidence but she sacrificed one of her two vials instead. If absom was as awful as she thought then one vial would definitely do the trick in a pinch. You know, as long as it didn’t come into contact with her. She had no idea how she’d survived inhaling it earlier.

Sentia snatched it soon as Paz produced it to better study, the four of them quickly devolving into a discussion over just how dangerous it was (Sentia confirmed its volatility). To Paz’s surprise, Sentia was the only one who didn’t advocate actually utilizing it. No, both Sam and Lonyn thought it’d be prudent to actually _use_ the shit, either against the Lakai or others. The moment she understood they might want to actually work with it Paz yanked her sample back, getting into an argument with Lonyn that consisted of them lobbing insults back and forth at each other, and at least one accusation that Lonyn was sleeping with Reeser, which she was, but Paz’s saying so was apparently something she shouldn’t have shared.

Look, some parts of her may have grown up in the past couple months, but not everything. She _so_ enjoyed antagonizing others.

They would’ve come to blows if Sam and Sentia didn’t break it up. By the end of their meeting nothing was really resolved, nothing more than everyone agreeing absom was dangerous and if they couldn’t lift it, then avoid it at all costs. Sentia did cryptically state she’d been working on a way to get them off the Lakai early, though she declined to share what that plan entailed. All she said was it’d be happening soon, and then asked Sam when Aim was available.

Because even if nobody agreed on what to do with about this substance, they all did understand they should be absolutely gone before it even grew close to hitting Andromeda’s mainstream chemicals market.

So overall, Paz nearly killing herself was a waste of time and effort. Wonderful. Sure glad she’d risked her life for nothing, not even to figure out what Fiala might’ve had to do with it.

Another week passed, with everyone returning to their routines. Paz lifted harder on her own, avoiding Desh where she could—in case they did discover their absom stash had been disturbed, she didn’t want to become an easy target to question. No word ever came from Sentia on her alleged plan, and Paz began to assume Sentia had been lying, or trying to raise their hopes. Either way, she felt more isolated than before with everyone diving into various projects they were working on.

It didn’t seem like anyone else on the Lakai was in a hurry, though. The ship was packed with unrecognizable faces most days when she ventured out to the gym, leading her to believe they really were laying low. That was a good thing for Coram’s sake.

She had no idea when the captain planned on heading to Hyleris. He’d mentioned the last stone key being there, but surely that mission would happen far in the future, when the Nav wasn’t on high alert. Far as she knew Hyleris was already guarded by the Nav, along with its two moons, and Hylerians were barred from their homeland. It’d long ago been turned into a mining operation, the planet sucked dry of near all resources. Therefore, there wasn’t much of a legitimate reason to touch down in the first place.

He’d be stupid if he thought the Nav hadn’t amped up security what with his recent shenanigans.

Then Sam drifted into the gym several days later, long before glo-set and grinning at her as he easily spotted her. She was the only one there.

“So _this_ is what you’ve been doing,” he slyly remarked, as if he didn’t already know, gaze roving down her tense body. “Hmm. Maybe this is better than sitting in the room.”

Paz stuck her tongue out, muscles working hard. “Told you. You know that room would be torn apart by now otherwise.”

It would. Sam’s eyes returned to hers, grin getting bigger. Back home he wouldn’t have approved. Here however it was a different story. She could trash anything on the Lakai and he wouldn’t say a word.

Yet she hadn’t, not in a while anyway. Setting the bar back into its slot, Paz righted herself on the bench. Sam tossed her a nearby (clean) towel, rocking on the balls of his feet while she wiped off sweat. He hadn’t said why he’d ventured out, which meant something was up. Waiting, she looking up at his nice, familiar face. Soon as he had eye contact he angled his head at the exit.

“They’re having a meeting in the cafeteria.”

Paz straightened. “Who?”

“Whole crew.” His eyes practically danced. “Sentia said we should go, and I didn’t see you so I figured I’d come collect.”

Eyes growing cautiously wide, Paz rose from the bench. “You think this is part of her idea?”

“Mhmm,” he confirmed, beaming. One hand reached for hers as they headed for the door. “I was going to wait until Aim left the lab and then sneak in, but she told me to come with.”

Aim had been incredibly forthcoming with Sam. Paz was almost jealous. The doctor still barely tolerated her, which was dumb—she’d brought her son back alive, hadn’t she?

Lacing her fingers in his, they hurried out the gym. Personally Paz would’ve liked to shower but that was an afterthought. If this was part of Sentia’s plan then she needed to be there. They needed out before this absom business hit.

Together they careened through the Lakai’s hallways, the cafeteria fairly close. Paz enjoyed the feel of his palm wrapped tight with hers, even if he teased her for being all kinds of sweaty at the moment. She couldn’t help the giddy feeling rising in her stomach, his excitement rubbing off. Sam hadn’t been this excited in ages. However Sentia planned on pushing them out of here, he was taking this as their next step toward freedom.

Much as she liked that look on him she quickly stopped paying attention once they entered the crowded mess hall. _Everyone_ on board seemed to be crammed inside. Huh. No wonder she’d been on her own in the gym. Pissed no one thought to tell her about this (besides Sam), she glanced through the dozens of people. Everyone had either found a spot at the many tables or stood with their familiars. She and Sam would try to do the same but Lonyn and Sentia were all the way on the other side of the room near the back. Cool. So much for trying to look like a united crew.

Sam guided her to a wall on the right of the entrance where, surprisingly, Aim waited. She extended that tight smile first to Paz before nodding pleasantly at Sam. Paz fought the urge to growl. She was totally jealous Sam had so easily woven his way into Aim’s good graces. It wasn’t fair! Sure, maybe she’d failed to listen and maybe she’d ignored Aim’s concerns, but she’d sucked up too and it’d gotten her nowhere. All he had to do was be a little curious and suddenly the doctor named him her new student.

“Hope this’ll be good,” Sam hissed next to her, squeezing Paz’s hand tight and quelling her ire. Twisting her head to where he was also pointing, Paz’s gaze caught on the captain somewhere near where they stacked trays. He stood a full meter or two taller than everyone else, using a table as his podium. Functional, if silly. Paz shrank into Sam’s side and focused on the floor before Coram noticed and glared her way.

The captain held up a hand requesting quiet, and the cafeteria’s chatter pittered off. So he did command respect from his crew. Honestly Paz had never seen him in action so she didn’t know what to expect. He had to be alright if so many people were willing to work for him.

Well, ‘alright’ depended on what one expected from him, she supposed.

_Just get on with it already._

“Thanks for coming on such short notice,” the captain started, his voice hitched somewhere between the hardass bravado and his more friendly tone. Paz’s lips twisted in contempt. “I’ll keep it brief—we’re crossing into Hailun quadrant.”

“That’s the captain?” Sam inquired in a murmur, surprised. It occurred to Paz they’d never officially met, but she liked the snort he uttered. “Someone needs to get him better mods.”

Cringing, Paz didn’t reply. She wasn’t sure if anyone had told him or the other Osiris members about the rotating mod schedule the Hylerians used on board. She’d look up to see if she caught any resemblance of Coram’s real face in his mods but Aim had silently stepped before her, blocking her view. Uh, rude.

“I need a team willing to drop down to Hyleris for a classified task,” the captain continued, making Paz’s stomach drop. This—what did this have to do with Sentia’s ‘plan’? Paz wasn’t allowed to go anywhere so it wasn’t like they could volunteer for this trip. Not like she wanted to, anyway. “Heading to the ground isn’t ideal, but necessary. I’d prefer a team with varying strengths. Any volunteers would be compensated greatly. I know the risk is great, which is why this is voluntary. If you’re caught, you’re on your own. The expectation is you won’t talk. So, facing death, expect to receive nearly anything you wish upon return—no, Neese, floating someone is excluded.”

That last comment was clearly meant for someone who might volunteer. A few uneasy laughs filled the air but they quickly dissipated. No one vocally volunteered, either. Good. Paz knew she wasn’t going but even she knew this sounded like a suicide mission. Sentia must’ve been waiting to push her plan after this announcement.

Beside her, Sam clutched Paz’s hand just a little tighter. He took a long, decisive breath before stepping around Aim. Unsure what he was doing (he was _not_ volunteering), Paz kept her hand with his even as it stretched. He started toopen his mouth, further alarming her.

“Topaz Khurana and her Federation crew volunteer.” No more than twenty paces away to their left Desh had said that. Paling, Paz yanked away from Sam and backed into the wall in a panic. Her stomach managed dropping further, heart hammering in its cage. What the fuck. What the fuck was happening? She couldn’t go! Coram had made that very clear! Beyond that, why the fuck was _he_ volunteering them?

Beyond _that_ irritating thought, _Khurana_? _That_ was supposed to be her last name? No fucking no, she was an _Omorin_ no matter her current feelings regarding Val. Did it have to do with the Vanson guy? Holy fuck, Desh was great but she kind of hated him at the moment.

Aim sidestepped and suddenly hundreds of eyes fell on her, grinding her thoughts to a halt. Paz didn’t bother staring back, face likely crimson as she stared hard at Sam’s boots. Why’d he…why’d he been stepping up?

Fucking Desh.

After an awkward pause, Coram grunted a dismissal. “No. This is our task, not some runaways.”

“They’d be ideal,” Desh countered, his voice coming closer. Goddamnit, Paz wanted to slide into the floor. Why was he arguing with the captain? “Khurana’s an accomplished thief and her crew hosts a former Nav pilot who rivals our own. Their tech hand could handle securities and…their chemist stands in as a surgeon. Why waste our crew when you could send them?”

Oh, that motherfucker. He was trying to get rid of them! Her anger flared but died as crew-member’s whispers drifted her way.

_That’s Vanson’s daughter?_

_Thought she was dead._

_Isn’t that the one we picked up in Daysturis?_

_He said to avoid her—she’s a bitch from what I’ve heard_.

_Sandova’s looking for her, isn’t she?_

_Oh shit,_ that’s _who they’re looking for?_

“No,” Coram refused, tone essentially the same.

Fists clenching, Paz kept her head down, pounding heart only covering up so much. Fuck this. She wasn’t volunteering. Coram had had his chance to send her to Hyleris and if Desh thought he could get rid of her this way he had another thing coming. Her fists wouldn’t miss next time she cornered him.

To her left Aim held her chin up high. “Your second is correct, captain. Much as you all revere Hyleris they’d slip through securities much more easily, _and_ it’d be less of a risk.”

What.

The.

_Fuck_?!

Aim was in on it, too?

From across the cafeteria a man Paz had seen a few times in the gym cleared his throat. “I agree. Working with the techy, I believe she could provide them cover—and cover for us should anything go wrong.”

“Their pilot’s not as good as me,” Reeser chimed in from the back, followed by an ‘oof’. “Okay, she’s close. Point being, she could navigate the fleet watching Hyleris. Why risk your own crew? They’d be happy to do it.”

Was the room spinning or was it just her? Paz wanted to vomit. First Desh, Aim, then the Lakai’s first engineer from the sound of it and _now_ Reeser? Holy fuck.

Immediately the crowd broke into more haphazard whispers. Coram let them go on, apparently doing his own thinking. Paz couldn’t look up. She didn’t want to anyway. This was _not_ what she’d envisioned the plan being, but apparently it was because Sam didn’t seem upset in front of her. Also, fuck Desh for using Vanson’s name like that. He knew _exactly_ what he was doing. Bastard.

Coram had to say no. He couldn’t just send them off; that’d make him look bad, right? Like his crew couldn’t do it. No, there was no way he’d consider it. Besides, going to Hyleris wasn’t what she wanted any longer, not even if it might satisfy some misguided curiosity.

As if he knew what she was thinking, Coram’s sudden ping was not welcome. _Did you ask them to do this?_

_Fuck no_ , she pinged back without thinking, her entire body beginning to quiver. She’d add more but he already fired back a response.

_Fine_.

To the crowd he loudly proclaimed, “Anyone from Khurana’s crew care to back these claims up?”

_Omorin._ She was Topaz fucking Omorin, not whatever name her father had been given. Fuck, she wished she hadn’t attended this meeting.

“I can.” Back at Paz’s side, Sam wrapped an arm around her waist and propped her against his hip. “Topaz isn’t just the best Hylerian thief—she’s the best head-hunter _and_ scavenger around. Lonyn Avery can fly anything—I’ve seen it, and she’s an unparalleled tracker. Sentia Malang broke through _your_ securities. You think the Nav will stand a chance? As for me…I can keep them alive, and I can shoot. Beyond that, you owe me, Halverson.”

Startled, Paz glanced up to find Sam’s knowing gaze fixated on the captain. Both men stared at one another, Coram backing off first. He scanned the room, another hand up for attention.

“Any other volunteers? Think carefully—I don’t give this kind of compensation often.”

No one answered, not even those he’d tried to cajole. Frowning, the captain shrugged. “Khurana’s crew it is, then. Makes it a lot easier then should they perish.”

He wasn’t smiling, and neither was Paz, though they were both pissed for starkly different reasons.

She wanted to sock Sam in his pretty face for arguing on their behalf, and for apparently knowing where this was headed before she did.


	63. Ch 61

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, kind of weird Sam's not letting Paz in on what's going on, but okay ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> Short chapter!

“What were you thinking?”

She shoved Sam into the wall soon as they were back in their room. Taken aback, Sam blinked and clutched at his chest. Paz may have pushed him harder than intended, but this was serious. How dare he? How could he possibly _want_ to head down to Hyleris? Even she didn’t want to.

“What? But, we need this. This is our chance!”

“Ye, but you didn’t have to be so eager!” she seethed, advancing until she was nearly against his torso. “What the fuck, Sam? How come nobody told me? Did you not hear him? I don’t care what’s down there, we’ll fucking die before we reach it!”

“We’ve ventured to worse places,” he argued, listing off a few hazy memories, moments she’d been assigned to hellish missions while the others worked on more stable jobs. Paz shoved him again to interrupt.

“That’s different! You weren’t there! _None of you_ were there! This isn’t going to be like walking into a colony, dude. Who knows if we’ll get any weapons?”

It easily dawned on him what she was alluding to. “Oh, what—you finally touch down in a colony and think you’re unstoppable? You don’t think we could hack it with you?”

To be honest, a little. That sounded terrible however so she improvised, glaring up at him. “They said a fleet is watching Hyleris. A _fleet_. You honestly think we could fly through that mess?”

“Sentia can hide us and Lonyn will glide right through,” Sam calmly explained, trying his best to calm her down. “Paz, we’ll be—”

“We’ll be dead before we even hit the ground.” She’d backed up, pacing to expel extra energy. This was so stupid. They wanted to get out of here but heading down to Hyleris was _not_ the way. “Fuck. This was Sentia’s plan? Seriously? We’re fucked, Sam. _We_ can’t do this. We can’t! It’s like asking to get floated!”

“Yah, calm down,” he insisted, rising both forearms in surrender. Suddenly the room was too small with both of them in it, the walls closing in. “It’s gonna be fine. Sentia and Lon will have our backs, and between you and me, I know we can do some damage. You’ve never turned down a challenge before, ye? So don’t worry. It’ll work out.”

Paz spun on him, anxiety pushing her to offer him a fearful look. Fear was not something she usually wielded, but she just…she couldn’t do this. Guinto could show up out of the void and tell her to go and she still wouldn’t. That _thing_ was not getting its way, not if she could help it. Beyond that, she could _not_ send her crew down to that kind of shithole. Everything she’d heard about Hyleris sounded horrendous. “Sam. I can’t. I can’t go down there. We… _can’t_.”

For a long moment Sam stayed where he was, studying her. Then he tentatively drew closer, both hands cupping her flushed cheeks. She wanted to rip away but she’d already pushed him twice; the least she could do was look up at him, terrified he was about to reassure her how they could totally pull this off.

He wasn’t Hylerian. He wasn’t stupidly confident, not like her, and she didn’t…didn’t want him getting hurt.

Stooping to eye level, he managed a soft smile. “It’s okay, Paz. Listen to me: it’s a cover. Sentia’s working on some things so we can just…act like we’re going, then disappear.”

Oh.

_Oh_. No wonder nobody had told her.

Every muscle in Paz’s body relaxed. She held onto his wrists for support, relief pulling her back down into her body regardless. When did they all have time to deliberate this without her?

“We’re not?” she whispered, _now_ somehow afraid of being overheard. His grin relaxed with her, already shaking his head.

“Fuck no. I’ve learned a thing or two out here, too, Paz. We’re getting out. Sentia figured if the crew thought you were behind this they wouldn’t go for it, so…we may have asked for some recommendations. See? We’re gonna get through this, together.”

The fact he was soothing her fears so easily made Paz feel right at home in his hold. She didn’t have to retrieve another key. Didn’t have to fight the Nav or worry about her crew. Didn’t have to deal with a Hylerian who couldn’t make up his mind, either. She may not have Val any longer but Sam, Sentia and Lonyn would more than make up for that wound.

Cracking a slight smile, Paz nodded at Sam.

She believed him.


	64. Ch 62

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coram debriefs the team on what their mission to Hyleris will be. Also, just a reminder that Guinto's friend Lapata, the Hylerian Paz's working comm belongs to, owned a piece of property called Balain. Just gonna leave that there.

With six people in his office including himself, it was a little cramped. Ignoring the need for space, Coram took note of the four sitting across his desk before glancing to Desh, his second rigidly stationed in one corner by the door. Shoulders already hunched, Desh released them in a shrug.

It was his fault these four ‘volunteers’ were here and he wouldn’t even admit it. Still pissed about that, Coram buried it for the time being to actually address the only people apparently willing to go to Hyleris on his behalf.

Right. Of course they wanted to go, freely and willingly, with one of his own rigs, without anyone in his crew.

Totally believable.

Sitting closest to Desh with both hands fidgeting in her lap, Paz was the only one he had any confidence in. _She_ honestly didn’t appear that thrilled about going, either, but here she was, supporting her crew.

Fuck, he didn’t want her going. It was selfish and petty on his part but he couldn’t stop the irritation oozing out of him, pissed with himself for being such a dick.

To Paz’s right her ‘friend’, Sam, leaned toward her, their shoulders touching, while he glared daggers into Coram’s chest. Deserved, though obviously unappreciated. Coram quickly moved on to the older woman idly filing her somehow impeccable nails. He’d heard promising things about their tech hand. She’d been dangerous the first time they met, too. Finally, crammed on the very right of everyone else sat Lonyn, their very own Nav-defected pilot from what he’d gleaned. No wonder Reeser had holed up with her the second she was on deck. They’d probably traded all sorts of gossip about their former employer. He’d ask but honestly? He didn’t want to know.

The three females he figured would likely survive their intended mission. Struggle? Perhaps. But definitely survive. Maybe he just didn’t like the kid (he definitely didn’t like _anyone_ who willingly fed someone substances) but he doubted Sam could keep up. Sam was the one who’d spoken for them, however, and Coram hated admitting it but the kid was right—the captain owed him. Paz clearly meant a great deal to him.

Damnit, he hated that that bothered him. Their departure, even if temporary, would be good. Yes, give him some space from Paz. It would’ve never worked out anyway so he had to keep up his pissy wall. Keep her as far away as possible.

Someone coughed, Desh prodding him to say something. Right. That was why they were all in his office.

Because she appeared nervous he pinged Paz first, hoping to catch her off guard and put her in the correct mindset. _How are you shorter than your crew_?

Her cheeks burned and he fought the urge to gloat, casually leaning back in his chair. “So, you four want to touch down on Hyleris. Fair warning—only one of you could actually survive down there if you lose vitals. Just something to consider.”

Sentia’s eyes rolled. “Ye, ye. Are we looking for a key or not?”

Coram’s eyes slid back to Paz, who did a really good job avoiding his attention. “You informed them of your task?”

“Didn’t say I couldn’t,” she grumbled at her shirt, and Coram would keep at it but Sam was glowering as if it was the captain’s fault she’d said something in the first place. Look, he understood the kid’s anger (there were a variety of valid reasons) but that meant nothing, not on his own ship. Honestly Sam was lucky he was alive—if they’d dared try boarding without mentioning Paz they would’ve been bits of dust in the void by now. He still would’ve voted for that if—

“Ye, you’ll be looking for a key,” he said instead, pushing that thought down. “An artifact. It lies on Hyleris in a mining chasm. When Hyleris was reestablished the Federation built hundreds of processing facilities and used them as outposts. One of these outposts, Balain, should contain the artifact.”

Paz’s face went ashen before him. Coram started to ping her but stopped. It wasn’t worth it.

“It’s abandoned, ye?” Lonyn inquired, scrutinizing the captain. Coram shrugged, avoiding her stare. It felt like she could see into the depths of his soul when she was glaring that hard.

“Should be. The whole chasm’s depleted far as we know. Most of Hyleris is dust and bones. If the Nav or Federation is around then we don’t know what else for. They never liked Hyleris; ruling from above was more their style.”

He remembered Hyleris well, as did Desh. The home they’d been born into was far, _far_ from the ideal place Paz’s alien friends spoke of. Gods, he hated that he’d failed to meet any while she’d been galavanting around with one.

His and Desh’s version of home was a wasteland and had been for decades before they were born. When the Nav ‘discovered’ them they’d been in the middle of several wars, so stability was already long gone. It’d been easy, honestly, for the Nav to conquer an entire, divided, population and begin moving them into the colonies.

Those who stayed were those who somehow managed slipping between the Nav’s fingers, and considered enemies to Fed integration—and the Nav. Many were hunted while some were rounded up and sent abroad, the penal colony Karkinos always the first stop. If they couldn’t be used for labor they’d be sent elsewhere via the Nav, and now they could confirm what that nightmarish place was.

Back then anything that happened off Hyleris was nothing more than rumors. No one ever came back once they left. Most were living within Hyleris by then, in subterranean pockets the Nav either hadn’t yet cleared with their mining companies or didn’t know existed. Their ventures to the outside were restricted to patrols and searching for resources unavailable below.

He’d been nine when their pocket collapsed via a nearby mining operation. Nine when the Nav slaughtered most anyone who resisted being rounded up. Nine when they’d grabbed him and a handful of other children, removing them from Hyleris and shipping him across Andromeda. That’d been one of the few journeys he remembered with incredible clarity.

The face he’d seen Paz wear a couples weeks ago, when she’d stared out into the void…it’d been the same as his, an intuitive sense coating the skin that knew there was no going back to whatever she’d realized before he tracked her down. He did not like being the reason for that face, but previous actions couldn’t be changed.

“Hyleris is surrounded by several Nav fleets,” he continued, focusing on Sam’s visible anger. “They guard it to keep us out. Far as we’re aware there’s literally no other reason—they don’t want us at home. Therefore, your tech’s gonna want to study up on securities and shielding. Avery, ask Reeser about evasive tactics we’ve found useful.”

Lonyn sighed heavily, slumping in her chair. “I can outrun the dogs. I’ve done it before.”

The captain’s lips quirked. He’d only advised her to work with Reeser as a courtesy. “Great.” Focus back on the kid, Coram took a moment. Sam had no talents unless one counted producing lotus. He could probably produce huasca, too, if someone let him. Hmm. Actually, maybe he could be useful. They had a surplus of raw product just sitting on board at the moment. Producing and selling some might boost their credits back into the billions, which would be fantastic.

He’d think about it. First he’d have to learn how to ignore the kid’s other, uglier qualities.

“Aim says you’re a natural in the med bay,” he made himself admit. “She’ll put you through some common fixes in the next couple days. I’m sure they’ll help should you actually make it to the ground.”

“We will,” Paz insisted in a growl, surprising him. Already regretting it, Coram lowered his brow at her.

“I know _you_ will, you who’s in charge of actually finding this key. I’m just trying to ensure your crew will, too. We don’t want a repeat of Hiduron.”

They hadn’t even reached the plan yet and they might not with the way things were going. Sam’s jaw ground this way and that before he snapped, “Paz busted her _ass_ to get you what you want. Don’t you _dare_ talk down at her.”

Oh, wonderful. Coram had avoided the kid for many reasons and this was one of them. Paz had endless loyalty to Sam so it figured it went both ways. In the moment he clamped his jaw shut and refrained from bitching about the ungodly amount of lotus Sam had let her consume to _keep her contained_.

“Apologies,” the captain managed, mostly keeping sarcasm out of his voice. “I mean to say I understand this is a risky venture and would like to not be responsible for your demise. You’re free to change your mind if—”

“We’ll do it,” Paz asserted. She’d mustered some courage from Sam, arms crossed tight over her chest. “You have my word. How should we approach it?”

That was unexpected. If he didn’t know any better he’d say this wasn’t the same Paz from even a week ago. He’d look at her funny but she was eyeing his desk, as if expecting something to be there. Right. Coram wordlessly pulled up an image of the chasm, general geo-points popping up inside its looming cavity. He’d been through it once, at night, on a day’s long trip from one burrow to another. It was vast and deep, and once they were in it’d be some time before they left.

“The chasm’s massive, but awkward. Prepare to do a lot of hiking—it’s not stable enough to land within. Balain lies in the southern tip. Depending on what’s occupying the chasm, exercise caution. You’ll be provided with plasma rifles—they’ll function once you reach the ground.”

“What if the Nav catches us?” Paz wondered, skin looking flush. Coram didn’t bother being polite.

“Thought Avery could evade the Nav.”

“Thought _you_ couldn’t be caught by the Nav,” Sam edged in, apparently unwilling to back down. “What if we’re caught off the ground? How do we hold our own?”

A good question. Coram jutted his chin toward Sentia. “Sure she’ll figure something out. Don’t have faith in her?”

Pushing forward in his seat, Sam let go of Paz for the first time. “I don’t have faith in _you_.”

“Then why’d you volunteer?” the captain demanded. Gods, he could feel his blood boiling. Paz had said she didn’t ask them but this was starting to feel like she was trying to sneak around his rules—good rules, for both of them. She couldn’t, though. She’d been very clear about wanting nothing to do with them any longer.

“We’d like to scrap for tech,” Sentia smoothly, if loudly, answered for them, pausing her nail filing. “As Topaz demonstrated, Hylerian tech is rare and valuable, and I’m not talking about the usual cups. Even the Nav can’t vacuum an entire planet so there’s bound to be something. You get what you want and we get a start on our new business.”

Coram slowly blinked. “Business?”

“You’re looking at Andromeda’s next up-and-coming looting crew,” their pilot smugly announced, smirk matching her tone. The fact all four of them wore the same grin indicated this wasn’t exactly new.

_Ask their name_ , Desh pinged. Coram’s gaze flitted back to him. His second had a straight face but he could tell Desh was trying not to laugh. How’d he know this shit?

Unmoved, Coram returned his focus to the map. “You have a name yet?”

Lonyn’s malicious grin broadened. “Caishen. Triad’s will _love_ us.”

Oh yes they would; the god of _money_ would fit right in with any Triad branch. Coram barely managed not snorting, one hand dropping into the map to point at a marked section. “Cute. We’ll be sure to steer clear. Now, if you get to the ground you want to head here. This is Balain.”

He paused only because he could _feel_ the change in Paz. A quick glance her way confirmed she had that same surprised look from earlier. Gods, he was being such a dick but he wanted to ask what was up.

Instead he drew a line over the post. “Nav built a facility here. It’s been attacked and fortified countless times, but it should be abandoned.”

“What if it’s not?” Paz quietly wondered, chest rapidly rising and falling. Next to her Sam reached behind her, clearly rubbing her back. “Is it…why’d they build it there? Do they think it’s important to you guys?”

Coram didn’t waste time, curtly nodding in response. “Ye. There’s—er, _was_ a temple there. It’s sacred ground to us.”

“Why?”

Why was she asking so many questions? Why was she sweating? Coram’s face screwed up, suspicious. Of what, he didn’t know. “Does it matter?”

“If you don’t know just say it,” Sam retorted for her, and as much as Coram wanted to exercise his position as captain he bit his tongue. Gods, he hated this guy. Paz had grabbed Sam’s knee, squeezing tight. In warning or comfort, he didn’t want to know.

“I don’t know,” the captain finally remarked. “Happy? It was there long before we were. Regardless, the artifact is likely in the facility and not the temple, or whatever’s left of it. I doubt the Nav was into respecting our cultural icons. If the post’s guarded…good luck. I’m sure your team will figure something out.”

To his left the pilot and tech eyeballed one another. Lip curling, Sentia smirked.

“EMP,” she simply suggested, their pilot’s teeth flashing viciously in agreement. It occurred to Coram they likely would succeed thinking like that. Good.

“Careful,” he warned, for Paz’s sake. She looked ill again, eyes still on the map. “Fry yourselves and you’re dead. Topaz might survive the climate—you three won’t.”

“This won’t be my first time in an inhospitable environment, captain,” Sentia grumbled, sharing another look with Lonyn. “Have no fear—I’ve no interest in attempting it onboard.”

Well. Covering his irritation, Coram smoothly assured her just as much. “Fine. Wouldn’t want to float you anyway. You seem valuable, Malang.”

She beamed. “That I am, captain. Be careful of your threats.”

In the back Desh cleared his throat—time to move on. Coram did as he prompted, focus on the map. Another picture slid over it, the third and final key. Its green tourmaline finish was just as garish as he remembered. All four in front of him leaned in to study it—well, three. Paz did for a moment before jerking back. She really was sweating. Coram’s thoughts narrowed. Countless questions and now she looked ill? He wasn’t that stupid. Maybe they should chat after the briefing. He’d need Aim for that however and she was taking care of…things.

“This is what you’re looking for,” he patiently explained. Lonyn murmured it looked like a drive core, which he idly ignored. “Depending on circumstances, it may be broken or in poor condition. Regardless, retrieve it and…on top of your secured departure _with_ a quality rig, your crew will have earned a favor from mine for as long as you stand.”

He expected at least some sort of reaction but all that happened was Paz casting a shifty glance at her comrades. Oh yes, something was up. Normally she had a decent poker face, but whatever was up she couldn’t hide it.

“I realize I’m sending you off with a ship of our own for this trip,” he continued, the maps and picture fading. “Therefore, one last thing before you go.”

_Now_ none of them were smirking, not even Sentia. Careful to hide his own grin, Coram leaned back farther and pulled open a drawer. Grabbing several thin, metal bracelets, he brandished them for his audience. Paz groaned while the others frowned, and he couldn’t help briefly flashing his teeth at her. As if he’d dare send her team off without a way to track them.

“Thanks to your…experiment, they’re impervious to electricity now. Only way they’re coming off is when you return.”

“You don’t trust us?” Paz demanded, palms angrily rubbing over both eye sockets. “Are you joking? I’m _not_ wearing that.”

“Then I guess you’re not leaving with our property,” Coram answered, actively ignoring Sam’s scowl. “Don’t worry, I know how much it upsets you. You won’t have to wear them until you’ve set off.”

As if she were possessed, Paz jumped out her chair and swiftly exited the office. It didn’t take more than a red-hot second for Sam to follow, calling her back before he even had the partition shut. Glancing to Desh, Coram pinged him to try and figure out what was up. In the meantime he dropped the bracelets to his lap, focus returning to the techy and pilot. They weren’t smirking in the slightest, which made his day.

“You can agree to being tracked, can’t you?” His eyes went wide, blinking innocently. “Surely you understand I’m not inclined on loaning out my property to a bunch of defectors.”

Despite her glowering, Sentia shrugged. She’d clearly be the one in charge of removing the bracelets. Short of stopping their heart, these weren’t coming off.

Their pilot sighed, legs shifting to prop her boots up on his desk. _His_ desk. “Whatever. When do we head out?”

“Forty-eight hours—glo-rise.”

Sentia launched into a quiet discussion regarding specifics with the fleet (absolutely _strange_ she hadn’t considered these concerns earlier), and Coram answered while simultaneously fielding Desh’s pings.

_She keeps saying she can’t_. Desh was always good at gossiping.

_Can’t what? Find the key?_

_Isn’t saying. Boyfriend’s assuring her they can—oh, no, she’s not…_

Ye, they weren’t on the same page. He could hear Paz yelling through the door. Sentia’s voice picked up volume to make up for it, both women shifting uneasily in their chairs. Desh kept eavesdropping.

_She doesn’t want him getting hurt—honestly, reasonable. He says he won’t get hurt. Oh, she’s not happy with that. She—damn._

Coram waited only a beat before needing know more. _What?_

_Never heard her beg before._

Coram had, though in a different context. It was effective, but it apparently wasn’t working. Desh didn’t have to tell him that. There was a bang from outside, then Sam calmly returned a couple seconds later on his own. He forced a placating smile.

“She’s just nervous,” he explained, remaining by the door even as he slid the partition shut. “Sorry.”

That was the least sincere apology he’d ever heard and now Coram knew where Paz picked up the habit. He tipped back just a bit further in his chair, an eyebrow raised. “Sure you can handle it, Omorin?”

“It’s Lonergan,” the kid snipped, glare cutting right back to the captain. “And while we’re at it, Topaz is Omorin, not _Khurana_. Get it right or don’t say it at all.”

Oh, he was damned protective for someone who’d actively hindered Paz’s ability to function. Coram took care not to bitch about that. “Fine. Question still stands, Lonergan. You think Caishen can manage?”

Uttering a sigh of clear disdain, Lonyn dropped her boots and lurched upright. She’d grown bored of their meeting. “Better start gathering funds, Halverson. We’ll be asking for that favor real soon.”

And that was that.

Soon as the Fed crew was gone, Coram and Desh shared a look. Everyone but Paz was ready, which was…not ideal. They’d probe for reasons why but asking her usually got them nowhere. Coram’s look grew more pointed the more he wondered why Paz of all people wouldn’t be ready.

“Happy you volunteered them now?”

Desh’s head thudded against the wall, a deep breath leaving his chest. He was still thinking about it.


	65. Ch 63

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paz gets some cold feet, and side note, do they really need to leave early??? Who on the team planted this idea of getting off the Lakai before they're ready? Hmmm 🤔

Two more hours until glo-rise. Paz only knew it because she couldn’t sleep, so she’d taken to more lifting. Every time she took a break she checked her comm’s clock. Okay; less than two hours. Fantastic. Come glo-rise they’d head to a rig they might be permanently leaving on, potentially jumping to Hyleris to hopefully retrieve a fucking stick or disappearing into the void altogether. It all depended on what Sentia could come up with in a short amount of time.

They needed those bracelets off at all costs if they were going to ditch early.

She kept lifting, arms burning, still pissed the others thought leaving might work. Course it wouldn’t. And while she had no problem believing _she_ could pull off a heist on Hyleris should Sentia fail them…it became complicated with other people. They wouldn’t be able to keep up. They’d bog her down. They’d maybe work their way through the fleets surrounding Hyleris but she could do that on her own, too—just crash land like they’d done on Beta and steal a rig to return. Easy. Thanks, Coram, for that dumb idea.

But it wasn’t like she wanted to go, even if everyone assured her they’d figure things out. She’d go, fine, but she was going to bitch and moan the entire time. She’d wanted to wait. She’d wanted to leave when the Nav wasn’t on high alert looking for her. But no, that was taking too long and her crew couldn’t wait any longer.

She was starting to look sympathetic to the Lakai as Sam so eloquently informed her last night. Two days of arguing back and forth had gotten her nowhere with him, or Lonyn or Sentia, either. They still thought they could pull a fast one and not even hit Hyleris. She did not think that’d be the case.

Anyway.

He’d said he knew she wasn’t sympathetic, but the others…

Man, fuck them all. They were the ones who’d volunteered, not her. They could insist they’d still work something out before everything went to hell but she had no faith in anyone that wasn’t herself, and the second something happened and she had to save their asses she would make damn sure to remind them she hadn’t volunteered for this bullshit.

Fuck. Her arms pumped faster but her lifts were halfhearted. She really didn’t want glo-rise to happen, no matter the outcome. Shoving the weight back to its holder, Paz sat up and panted a little until her heart stopped pounding. Her gaze numbly scanned the empty gym, thoughts swirling. Sam _swore_ Sentia could salvage their plan, bracelets and all. To his face she absolutely believed him, but if they failed…

She didn’t want that weird feeling from Alpha again, okay? She didn’t. And, as weird as it was that the place Kamul apparently had a deed to was the _same_ place Coram said this stick was at, it just furthered her worries. Yes, she fucking remembered that shit. All these little coincidences kept occurring and it seemed like they were leading her somewhere. Where that was, she had no idea, but she was very apprehensive about finding out.

Someone had to be more fit to put these pieces together, literally anyone. She had no idea what to do with all this information and she’d share it with King Douchebag but they were beyond that. He’d be kicking the Nav’s ass in due time anyway, with or without her help. That was, she had to believe, what the absom was for.

Desh wouldn’t try interpreting, that was for sure. He was more involved with just keeping their people safe. Guinto? Maybe, but she didn’t know how to actually contact the Hylerian and if she already had with her blind spamming, then they’d refused to respond.

Who else might? Sandova? Rahm? Fuck them. Maybe…maybe it was just better all this information stay and die with her. The age of Hylerians was _way_ over, anyway; the Nav had ensured that. And, if they did all die off then fuck the Nav for poor planning and fucking over even themselves in the process. They were the ones who needed Hylerian blood or whatever.

Okay, okay, so maybe all those things she’d been shoving down and pretending she didn’t care about were culminating together in an ugly, panicking soup. Thank the stars she’d managed holding ideas about Val and her family at bay, or she’d be one wrong move away from an interstellar meltdown.

Swiveling around the bench, Paz headed for the showers. Tired, achy, sweaty… Man, maybe she’d pass out after their sendoff. That’d be better than fretting, because she knew she would. Reeser she’d been able to force to work with her. These people, her crew, they were used to bossing her around. There was no way they’d heed anything she said. She’d tried! She’d fucking tried for forty-eight hours straight, listing all the reasons they should just decline this volunteering bullshit, or why not take a break from traveling in the first place? Maybe focus on the great skills they were picking up here because it seemed like they were learning a lot.

They ignored her worries and told her to fuck off until they were ready to go. Even Sam, to an extent, though he was obviously nicer about it. She’d _tried_ conveying her worry to him and he didn’t get it. Didn’t understand why she was afraid because she was never afraid, and like Lonyn and Sentia, he was confident they weren’t going to actually hit Hyleris.

Paz wasn’t scared, necessarily. She was just…terrified of having something else fill her for even a moment, of learning more things she didn’t want to know about and then having to make more connections should they actually touch down, oh and the big one: that big, gaping hole that would absolutely rip through her should her crew be hurt in any capacity.

Was it too late to volunteer herself? It was a stupid idea but she trusted herself, no one else. Maybe sneak off the Lakai before anyone else and see what she could do instead of letting her crew bungle things further. Oh, or even give her _other_ Hylerian crew mates to deal with. They’d all hate each other and it’d be great.

Actually, that was a fantastic idea. Why hadn’t she thought of it earlier?

Zipping out of the shower, Paz hurriedly dried while simultaneously hacking out a quick ping to Coram. Even if it was just her it’d be better than allowing her crew to try and take on Nav _fleets_. Her crew was too important to lose.

He pinged back way too quickly to her liking. In the week they’d spent together she’d learned he slept like any other normal person. Why did it feel like he did no such thing on his ship? Shoving on a tee shirt, Paz pursed her lips and read the ping over twice.

_Much as I like that idea, they already committed. You go with them._

Motherfucking dick. She threw back a rude response, twisting into compression joggers. _How about just me then? I can do it, you know I can._

_You shouldn’t even be going. At least your crew can hide you._

_But if anything happens they can’t live down there._ It was a very valid concern.

_I did tell them this was a risk, ye? Don’t worry._

“Fuck you,” she mumbled under her breath, storming into the hallway, hair still dripping wet. He didn’t— _why_ didn’t anyone understand?

 _I can handle myself_ , she tried again, pushing down the empty corridor for the ladder down to residential. _I can get it on my own. Keep them here._

 _You don’t even want to go._ He had a point, but that wasn’t relevant. _Why’re you begging?_

That asshole hadn’t seen her really beg, not yet. She slid down the ladder, prowling down another stark hall. No one was up yet, thankfully. _Because I can do this. They can’t. Happy? We’re just so fucking special and they aren’t so let me go on my own._

_How’re you gonna push through Nav forces?_

_I’ll figure it out._ She always did, and if he knew anything about her he’d understand that.

There was a long pause, and she knew he was debating.

_That’s not good enough. You’re all set to leave in an hour and a half. No._

He was being impossible. Paz turned down another dim hall, _trying_ to make her steps light but it was also impossible. Her eyes scanned each door she passed, senses on high alert.

_Are you being a dick just because or is there a legit reason?_

Oh, his response was pissy, and full of errors given how hard her comm was working to fix them. _I didn’t suggest this, Topaz. Your team did. I generously allowed it. Don’t try and break what they’re asking for._

_Ye, well, they’re stupid. Change it. You’re captain, not them._

_No._

_I saved your ass—let me do this._ She slowed, doing her damndest to find what she needed. Coram snapped right back, like he already knew what she was going to say.

_Fuck no. They asked, they made a scene. You’re all going._

Her senses honed in on a door to her left, nondescript like all the others. Halting in front of it Paz slammed a balled-up fist against it. She’d do it again but Coram yanked the partition open, eyes blazing mad as he glared down at her.

“No,” he hissed, nostrils flared. “Answer’s final.”

“Change your mind!” she hissed back, jamming herself as close to him as she could get. “Do it!”

Coram started to refuse but quirked his head, brows lowering in a scowl. “Why’re you tripping? You’ll be there! Pretty sure your techy might blow the entire fleet out of the void. If anyone can do this it’s definitely you guys.”

Glancing left and right, Paz exhaled as she sank to her knees, head bowing. Even as he backed up she begged, “Reconsider, okay? Please. _Please_. I will do anything you want. Anything.”

Several seconds went by. Then Coram drew closer, dropping on his haunches before her. “Paz, I—”

“ _Please_.” She wasn’t above crying, not for this. “They’re the only people I have, okay? If it’s that dangerous I can’t have them going.”

“Care about your crew but not yourself,” the captain softly observed, continuing to sigh. “What a good—”

“—Little slave, I know,” she finished, already aware where this was headed. “I don’t care. Let me go. Just me. I can do this. I promise.”

He didn’t say anything, not at first. Careful to keep her head bowed and focus on the grates, Paz didn’t dare say more, either. Begging wasn’t her strong suit so she had to try and stay small, vulnerable. Let him think he had the upper hand because unfortunately, he did.

Two big hands settled on her thighs. She blinked at Coram’s fingers, fighting the urge to shudder. He had to be stupid. Fucking dicking around then touching her? Ugh.

“If anyone can do this it’s your crew,” he gently reasoned. “I didn’t consider it because I don’t believe this is enough time to lay low, but they asked and gave good reasons. _My_ crew even vouched for them. They’ll have your back.”

Even though she didn’t mean to her voice still cracked when she repeated, “Please change your mind. Coram, I’ll do it. No charge.”

He made a grunt of disbelief. “Why— _this_ bothers you? Why?”

Because if anything happened down there she didn’t want them to be involved, and she didn’t want to be responsible. Paz couldn’t say that, verbally or via ping. It’d lead to questions that she was not comfortable explaining. She just repeated herself, promising she’d do anything.

Which either pissed him off or drove him nuts. Either way he caught her tense wrists and dragged her up to her feet, tugging her into his room. The door slammed shut and he nudged her deeper inside. Paz had never been to his room (obviously) but it was almost disappointing to find it was near exactly the same as hers.

“What’s your problem?” he demanded, careful to keep his voice low. Wobbling around, Paz didn’t bother with a response. He went on regardless. “Yah, why’re you freaking out?”

He had no right to ask that. Paz set her jaw, arms crossing tight over her chest. If she held them there long enough she might be able to hold every single damn thing in.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Does it matter?” she retorted, body beginning to quiver. Maybe she shouldn’t have pushed herself so hard in the gym. “I can do it, alright? So just. Send. Me. Please.”

Stepping backward, the captain used his door for support. “No. A crew might make it. You, on your own? No way.”

“Why not?!” Ye, she was getting a little desperate, yelling like that. “I—!”

“You’re not careful!” he answered, each word quick and clipped and serious. “Okay? You don’t think and you _need_ to think when you’re down there. Sorry.”

She thought plenty. That was her problem, currently. Somehow indignant, Paz shrugged. “You were fine with that previously.”

“Ye, before I knew you,” he argued, hands shoving into sweat pant pockets. “I—”

“You still don’t know me,” she interrupted, more offended over that than his last statement. He seemed offended though, too, which was…weird. She wanted to yell at him because he’d been in the wrong. He’d caused all this shit, not her, and it wasn’t fair, so why couldn’t he do her a solid and change his fucking mind?

Shoulders rolling, Coram’s neck tilted one way. “Look, I’m sorry. I can’t. That makes up for nothing but the least I can do is not agree to sending you out on your own down there. That’s guaranteed death. It’s miserable down there, Paz, even with you being Hylerian, and you… I’m not giving you that kind of death. Your crew is smart. You’ll do fine.”

But what if they didn’t? She would never say that out loud. It still settled on her tongue though, waiting to actually voice it.

“Or just…don’t go, at all,” he murmured, skull thudding on the partition. Her gaze flitted up, confused. “Convince them not to go. Make them back out and I’ll reconsider. If you’re that scared, tell them.”

Never, _never_ in her life would she admit to _him_ that she was scared yet it tumbled out before it could be stopped. It was either that or tell him she didn’t believe in her own crew.

“I’ve tried. I told them I didn’t want to do this, and they don’t believe me. They want to go.”

“They want to scavenge a dead planet that bad?” he skeptically wondered, not bothering holding in his wry smirk. Paz knew then he’d seen through the sham, just as much as Desh likely had. There was no way her crew intended on scavenging, hence the bracelets. She knew it, he knew it. They all knew it, meaning he must be fairly confident those bracelets couldn’t be hacked off.

Hearing the doubt in his tone, Paz’s shoulders folded. Crew loyalty kept her from divulging everything but she knew he saw. Saw the anxiety on her face, rippling over her body. Despite that, here she stood, asking him to make her crew stay like he could override everything. Couldn’t he?

Contemplating her figure, Coram let her squirm for several long, deep breaths. “You don’t want to go, but if they do you’d rather go for them. Loyal, Paz.”

Only he could make that sound bad. Fighting the word vomit trying to escape, Paz’s mind spun as it searched for something that’d make him do what she wanted.

“I’d stay on board,” she bargained, unsure why she even said it. “Let me go on my own and I’d stay here. Sound good?”

“Don’t say that,” he growled back. “I’m not—our deal’s over. I’m not keeping you.”

“But you—”

“ _No_ ,” he barked, voice shrinking the room. “I’m not convincing them, and if you can’t then sorry. This is what they requested. I’m not taking back my word for our guests.”

Oh, so _now_ he cared about them? Paz did a great job not punching at the nearest object, mostly because his desk would bust open her knuckles.

“Why’re you like this?” she demanded, opportunity slipping from her grasp. “This—back and forth, back and forth? I fucking hate it!”

Coram uttered a bitter laugh, pushing deeper into the door. “Good. Stay with your crew, Paz. They won’t let you down.”

Holy fuck she wanted to strangle him. This motherfucking douchebag was acting like he was so above everything, like she was nothing and she fucking _hated_ that even more.

“Fine,” she seethed, lurching for the door. “Fuck you, Coram. Fuck you, your ship, your crew, and whatever the fuck your plans are, okay?”

If he wouldn’t let her have her way then she’d do it herself, just like she’d thought in the first place. It couldn’t be that hard to pilfer a rig and undock, ye? Shoving around him, she pushed into the hall and made a hard right.

He yanked her back before she made two steps, snarling in frustration. “Room’s not that way.”

“Really?” She shoved at him but it got her nowhere. “Huh. Hadn’t noticed.”

“Go to your room,” he lowly instructed, mouth to her ear while keeping her restrained. “Pack, fuck your boyfriend, whatever else, I don’t care. You are _not_ attempting this on your own.”

 _Fuck_ , she hated that she loved the feel of his body so tightly pressed over hers. Much as she wanted to slam her hip into his balls her body was betraying her, that delicious feeling he provided sweeping across her skin. Goddamnit, _why_ was she like this? It wasn’t fair.

And…

Okay, perhaps she’d sought this feeling out, needing that terribly comfortable feeling he provided. Not intentionally, of course. It hadn’t been her grand scheme to get him to touch her but, well…

Here they were.

He stiffened the more relaxed she grew. If anyone else had been up this would’ve been a much different interaction and they both knew it.

“Go to your room,” he ordered again, though he didn’t let go. Paz didn’t help, gripping one of his arms tight around her waist. She could feel him tense as he added, “Please.”

She snickered just a bit. “How?”

That arm loosened but she still didn’t move. If anything she tucked herself closer. When she went nowhere he pulled her back inside, door softly whooshing shut to give them privacy. Privacy was the last thing on Paz’s mind though, her back twisted to the partition while he crowded around her, jaw loosening.

“Don’t do this,” he panted, eyelids half lowered as well. “Don’t. I won’t—I’m not changing my mind.”

“About?” Damn, Paz hadn’t known she could sound so…sultry? She wasn’t sure, but she simply leaned on the door, happy to look up at that ugly face and imagine the real one behind it.

“About going,” he quietly drawled, sounding a little strangled. “I’m not—you’re not going alone.”

Well. She knew that, completely understood it, was going to hold it against him for a long time. Despite knowing this, she still focused on his chest, his bare fucking chest, a few fingertips wavering over his tattoo.

“Then…” Oh boy, she was stupid. She was still aching to do it anyway. “What if we…”

“If we what?” he prompted, frustrated voice barely audible, ducking to press his forehead to hers. Trapped between the door and his powerful body, Paz found any lingering negative thoughts drifting off. She didn’t mind. This calmed her, providing her with something to take the edge off.

“I wouldn’t expect anything,” she finally admitted, fingertips having found his warm skin. His heart pounded beneath his pectorals, faster and faster. “I would just like to…”

It was like he’d quit breathing. Paz nearly smiled at his anticipation and obvious readiness. Mm, she did like him subtly rubbing against her leg. Very un-captain-like of him.

Very un-captain-like of him to also dip one way, cheek nuzzling hers as he slowly whispered, “You have no idea how much I would like to do that, Paz, but I’ve seen how Sam looks at you.”

That, unfortunately, grabbed her attention. Paz went numb, barely feeling the pressure pushing into her. She didn’t know if he’d said that to make her feel guilty but it certainly did. Thanks, Coram. Sidling around his legs, she grabbed for the door.

Sam didn’t care. He didn’t. He might not be completely on board but he—he _knew_ how she was. The captain mentioning this was just another dick move, a way to push her off.

Coram held onto the waist of her pants. Not hard, but enough she knew he had more to say, and when she glanced up at him she almost wanted to cry at his serious look.

“Hey. You understand what I’m saying, ye?”

Eyes flickering to the floor, Paz bit her lip. She did. She knew what he meant. Sam didn’t mind what she did but he’d mind _this_. She’d known that for weeks. Anything to do with the guy who’d essentially upended their lives he loathed, and for good, _real_ , reasons.

Goddamnit. _Why_ couldn’t she just have her way? Just once.

Just. Once.

“You don’t want to hurt him,” he tenderly rasped, lips back to hovering over her neck. Paz tried not to shiver. “You told me this. So don’t.”

Okay, fine, but when he sucked on her skin like it wasn’t going to do anything, she _may_ have failed to choke her groan, that sweet sensation flooding through her all over again. This _really_ wasn’t fair. He was telling her ‘no’ then pulling this shit and he clearly knew she had a severely weak constitution. They’d spent nearly an entire week fucking—he _knew_.

And yet he was sucking on her neck like it had nothing to do with the situation. And yet she was doing nothing to prevent it. She even tilted her head, providing him with more access. He obliged, hot mouth moving up and up and up until he found the soft spot between her ear and jaw. Oh fuck, she forgot what was about to happen. Forgot he’d just been bitching. Forgot everything but that suction on her neck because she’d like it in many, _many_ more places.

Coram’s fingers left her joggers to firmly grip her waist, pulling her suddenly pliable body just a little closer. She eagerly allowed it, practically melting into him. This was good. This was so simple but it still turned her inside out and she absolutely hated that it was happening but there was no fucking way she’d stop it.

The captain paused, mouth moving back to her burning ear, tongue dragging the edge of her lobe. Every bit of her went still, wanting him more than anything at the moment.

“I want to fuck you,” he murmured, each work slipping into her core. “Badly. But if I do then I’m going to want more and I think you will, too. Sam will be pissed you’re fucking the enemy, and that seems like an awful thing to do to someone who risked everything to come find you. Doesn’t it?”

Yes, yes it did and she wrenched herself away, one palm clamping over her warm, stinging neck.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yep.” One shoulder holding him up against the wall, Coram used the other to shrug. “Now run on back before you do anything stupid, alright?”

“ _Before_?” she echoed, avoiding his gaze, trying to douse the thrilling pulse in her veins. “What the fuck was _this_?”

He grimaced, face turning bitter. “ _Me_ being stupid.”

Well, ye, he wasn’t…wrong. Still standing there, heart and limbs fluttering, Paz self-consciously rubbed at the fiery trail he’d created. Fuck.

“Go, Paz,” he softly repeated, growing stern. “You got this. Your team will do fine.”

What—oh, right. She’d forgotten about that. Unsure what else she might be able to do, Paz huffed, then shoved through the door once more with a curt ‘whatever’ that bordered on rude but lacked any sting.

She could feel his eyes burning into her back, tracking her all the way down the hall until she disappeared around the corner.


	66. Ch 64

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy do we have a beefy chapter today. Caishen crew heads out! Will they make it to Hyleris or escape into the void??

-Hyleris, Hailun Quadrant, M314-

Paz was in a foul mood while they prepped for their departure, while Lonyn drew a slim cargo rig out of the Lakai’s hangar, and on the several hour journey through the void that brought them in range of Hyleris. She hated every second, hated listening to Sam marvel over the slowly growing planet and its moons, hated Sentia’s promises that she was almost done reconfiguring the tight bracelets Coram hadn’t let them leave the Lakai without, and hated the fact that no one seemed to understand what a stupid idea this was. Her crew at least understood her temper, leaving her to moodily brood near the back of the rig with their supplies. Sam tried several times to brighten her outlook but it didn’t work.

She hadn’t gotten her way. Thus, she was going to sulk. So much. Hylerians were dramatic creatures—she was simply reminding her crew of this inconvenient fact.

But, when Sam left her alone she did take a look at their approaching destination from a small porthole. Hyleris was rather…nice. Well, no, _big_. That’s what it was. Hiduron, Centurion Alpha, Beta…none of them were as enormous as Hyleris. Something about it struck her a little stupid and she forgot about being pissed, at least for a while, that stark, cloudy rock taking up her attention.

For some reason she’d thought it would be smaller, more insignificant. And warm. Before they’d left the captain had informed them there was a high chance they’d freeze to death out of their suits down there. Even her. He’d stared at her a little too long, practically begging her to stay in her suit this time. Pretty please with protein puffs on top.

So of course Paz was not wearing it at the moment, subdued via the view but still bitter. Couple more hours and they’d either be down on the surface, free and sailing out of Hailun as fast as they could possibly go if Sentia figured out a way to deactivate the bracelets, or…dead from Nav fleets. With those three options on her mind, Paz rubbed her eyes and headed up to the cockpit where the others congregated.

“There she is,” Sentia announced in a high-pitched, sickly sweet tone she never used without sarcasm. “Feeling better?”

Paz didn’t bother with an answer, rounding to Sam’s side and eyeing the nearby dash. Lonyn was hard at work monitoring every single little stat and warning, both legs tucked beneath her in the pilot’s seat. Her brow was terse, concentrated. Best not to start shit right now.

Next to her, Sam wrapped an arm around her waist and squeezed. Paz instantly softened, just a little, and let him press a kiss to her temple.

“We’ll be out of here soon,” he whispered, as if that’d keep the bracelets out of their business. Nobody seemed to be paying attention to them but Paz, even after she’d told them they were listening. They were _that_ confident in Sentia’s plan. Paz tried to be confident, too, grunting a response and scanning the dash. Hyleris and its bright satellites were quickly beginning to take up their entire view, yet they’d seen no signs of Nav patrols. Was this even Hyleris? Had Sentia figured shit out? But—no, the two moons…

Man, she wished this part were over. She’d feel a lot better once they were through their first round of obstacles. Where was the fucking Nav? They had to be here. Maybe Lonyn had rounded from the back?

“Where’s the Nav?” she asked out loud with a frown, mostly because she couldn’t stand listening to her own inner stream of stupid questions any longer.

Behind them Sentia clucked her tongue. “That’s what you’re worried over, dear?”

Ignoring her, Paz side-eyed their pilot until Lonyn finally answered.

“Hiding. They’re in small pockets, but there’s a lot of them. We’re…going to stay out of range for now.”

They were waiting for Sentia to give them the ‘okay’ with their bracelets. So far she hadn’t, and whatever she was doing just a meter or two behind them with a dinky tablet wasn’t speeding things up.

“They won’t spot us,” Sam assured, seeing where Paz’s train of thought was headed. “We’re not giving off any traces. So, all we need to do is…wait, and then we’ll be off the grid and on our way.”

Despite not being the one they were counting on he sounded so confident. Paz swallowed her misgivings and nodded. Her attention flicked from the eerily calm void and back to Hyleris’s swirling, storming clouds. “It’s kind of…pretty.”

“Kind of a death trap, too,” Lonyn muttered, fingers flicking over a display. “Should’ve come here _months_ ago. This is a bad season, apparently.”

Hence the freezing cold. Well. Things hadn’t worked out that way for several reasons so here they were. Sam’s arm grew tighter around her waist.

“We’re not going down there. Don’t worry.”

Goddamnit, Paz wanted to wither. She’d bitch at Sentia but that never worked; their techy did things at her own pace. She’d be done when she was done. Sentia knew what she was thinking, too, because she could feel the gloating smirk from behind her. Man, why’d she even come with? Asking now seemed a little late, so she hunched her shoulders instead and focused on the dash. “Can’t wait for this to be over.”

“Me, too,” Lonyn growled, impatience clear beneath her breath. Unlike the others, she was fine with prodding their techy. “How much longer?”

“Patience, dear,” Sentia teasingly snipped. “These things take time.”

_Then why weren’t you working on them before we left?_ Paz wanted to scream, already aware of the answer anyway. They hadn’t been given access earlier. The least Sentia could’ve done was work on them sooner than the past couple hours.

“I’m starting to think it’s not going to work,” their pilot retorted, fingers gripping around the controls. One eyelid was twitching. “You’ve got five minutes. After that, I’m taking matters into my own hands.”

Sentia glanced up from her tablet, unmoved. “Meaning…you’ll try and outmaneuver entire fleets?”

There was a snort of disbelief. “Done it before. Don’t see why I can’t now.”

Now their techy wasn’t as teasing. Rising to her feet, she joined the others at the dash. “Things have changed, dear. This isn’t the Nav you belonged to.”

“Oh really?” Lonyn jerked the controls, their rig dipping. “This isn’t the big bad Nav with hard rules? Tell me more, Sentia.”

Their techy huffed. “Maybe _I_ should pilot. You seem a bit tense.”

“Focus on your work, _Sentia_ ,” Lonyn shot back through gritted teeth. “You _promised_ you could get these things off, remember?”

“I promised no such thing, I—”

“You did, too! Get them off or I’m going to end this right now!”

“I thought I had five minutes.”

“ _Now_ , Sentia.”

Through this entire exchange Sam and Paz had gingerly backed off, both suddenly very concerned over their safety. Paz was Hylerian and obviously careless, but these two? They weren’t normally at one another’s throats. Normally, they were both irritated by Paz’s antics.

“Perhaps you should reroute regardless,” their techy replied, and while she sounded haughty it wasn’t really believable. Paz’s spine tingled and she whipped in Sam’s embrace, eyebrows lowered at Sentia.

“You can’t do it, can you?”

Their techy cut her a lethal glare, tablet thrown to the ground. “You’re questioning _my_ abilities? I’ll have you know we’re _here_ because of me, Topaz. We’re here because—!”

A loud, flat chime echoed through the rig, cutting their argument short. Everyone stilled—well, everyone besides Lonyn, who swore and grabbed at a control with a harsh yank. She also loosed a snarl that rivaled the alarm.

“Motherfucking Nav—everyone shut up!”

Sentia ducked to search for her tablet while Sam and Paz did the same, hiding next to Lonyn’s chair. It only took another second before Sam was prodding at the Hylerian, mouthing at her to go put on her suit. Rolling her eyes, Paz lurched backward anyway and crawled out of the cockpit just as the tiny room crackled to life.

“This is restricted airspace—cease your engines and state your credentials.”

Well. Guess the Nav was hiding a little better than they’d thought. Pissed they’d been surprised, Paz quickly worked into the back engine room and shoved herself into her suit, helmet hooking to her belt while she pulled back her hair. Elsewhere in the ship she heard Sam— _Sam_ of all people—doing his best impression of a stern official, explaining to whoever had made contact that they were under orders to deliver something. What it was, he was soberly trying to inform them, they hadn’t been told.

Just hearing that made Paz want to bash her head into the nearest wall. Really? Were they stalling for time or what? If it’d been her she would’ve forgotten the bracelets and tried backing out immediately, rushing out of the quadrant, but the engines died instead. Lonyn had shut them off, just like the Nav demanded.

She rushed back to the cockpit as quietly as she could, sidling around Sentia to return to Sam’s side. He had a hand on one of the monitors, intent while a crackling voice trickled through the cabin about how there were strict guidelines in this quadrant and to prepare for a boarding. A team, they were assured, would arrive shortly for questioning.

Memories of Beta flooded back and Paz nearly punched the dash. Of course the Nav knew they were slinking around; they weren’t idiots. Coram had been right. It was too soon to go anywhere, let alone graze Hyleris, and yet he’d been willing to drag his own crew members to their doom.

Her crew was just being stupid, but the captain? He had no excuse.

Soon as the crackling stopped she grabbed Sam’s elbow. “What the fuck, man? We don’t _have_ anything for them!”

Glancing down at her, Sam’s mouth twitched. She honestly couldn’t tell if he was excited or calculating. “Relax. This’ll give us some time.”

“Time for what?” Paz seethed, a thumb jabbing back at Sentia. “She’s not done! And we just fucked our element of surprise, so honestly, I’m pretty sure we’re fucked!”

“This will work,” Sam reassured her, finding one hand and slipping his fingers through hers. “Trust me.”

“ _What_ will work?” both Paz and Lonyn hollered, one quivering with anger and the other furiously checking stats.

Behind them Sentia coyly tittered. “More time and a new ship, dears. We’re hijacking their rig.”

“And you didn’t think to _tell_ us this?!” Okay, at least Paz wasn’t the only one whose temper was flaring. Snapping out of her chair, Lonyn whirled around and sank eye daggers into Sentia’s gloating frame. “How _dare_ you? This isn’t funny, Sentia! This is the Nav and they’re going to be boarding here soon! What, you think they’re not gonna notice the fucking bounties on our heads?!”

Shoving behind the chair and taking Paz with, Sam placed himself between the pilot and techy. He’d puffed his chest up, making a slightly more intimidating figure than usual. “Hey! This’ll work, alright? I got this!”

Oh, Paz certainly hoped he had it. Twenty minutes later a cruiser had aligned with them, the Nav ship stretching a bridge to their hatch. With everyone suited up and waiting in the hatch, her brain looped on the million and one ways this absolutely wasn’t going to work.

“Relax,” Sam instructed to the others, having taken up residence in front of the hatch’s porthole, watching while a team of (armed) Nav officials strolled down the bridge. “Stay loose, guys. Lon—be polite if they ask you anything. Sentia—back her up. Paz—.” Pausing, he slyly lowered his gaze to the nervous Hylerian at his side. “Push ahead on my signal.”

“What signal?” she whispered, crammed at his side to look through the porthole as well. Her helmet, of course, wasn’t going on until the very last second. Above her, Sam cocked his own helmet.

“You’ll know when you see it.”

Not reassuring, but she supposed she would. She and Sam worked well off one another, and with Sentia and Lonyn doing any backup talking, all she had to do was play along. Yes, she could totally do this. You know what? Maybe they would pull this off.

That helmet tilted a little more. “Paz—helmet. Now.”

Right.

Removing her glove from his, she fiddled with her helmet and suit. Around them, a slight ding went off indicating the bridge was secure. About five meters out, two guards solemnly stood around, waiting for the hatch to open. Somehow, her nerves had calmed down and when Lonyn punched the release, Paz was almost disappointed they hadn’t lured more people into their trap.

She had a vague idea what Sam and Sentia were doing. There was going to be a distraction of some sort, and then they’d muscle into the other ship. The more she thought about it the more she realized it was a good option. This way they’d have no need to wait for weapons to be turned on, and they’d be in a Nav ship. Not a good cover, obviously, but once they pushed into another quadrant they could scrap and secure another one. By then Sentia would have their bracelets off and they’d be well on their way to obscurity. Hmm. Considering the mood she’d been in, she sort of understood why no one had told her about this. Not like, completely, but pretty much.

And, to be honest, she did feel a little bad for not telling Desh goodbye. He hadn’t been available during their departure. Guess she could send out a ping. No, _focus_. They were cutting ties, _now_.

Hissing, the hatch pushed open. Everyone on Paz’s side stood stock still while the two Nav sentries stepped forward.

“State your name and business in these parts,” one of them boredly announced, appearing not at all happy about being there. Paz smirked at him, aware he couldn’t see through her visor. At her side, Sam held up his hands like he meant no harm.

“Hey there. I’m Sam. This is my crew—the Caishen.”

The other sentry’s gaze narrowed. “There isn’t a crew registered as Caishen. Who sent you and what were your orders?”

“We’re new,” Sam idly admitted, slowly reaching for his waist. “Probably aren’t on the books, yet. SanGen gave us orders to deliver out this way to a…” Ever the good actor, he pretended to squint within his comm for confirmation. “Li Fen Dao?”

Paz’s heart stammered. She had no idea if Sam was making this shit up or not, but apparently he wasn’t because the two sentries exchanged a look, their postures relaxing.

“He’s on the Caibao,” one of them remarked, stepping closer. “He’s very busy. We’ll take the delivery.”

AKA, this guy would never get anything even if it were true. Sam worked at a pouch near his hip regardless. “Sure. It’s not that much from the look of it.”

“What is it?” the other sentry demanded, frowning as Sam held out the pouch. Sam, the handsome bastard he was, shrugged.

“Dunno. SanGen said it was a prototype, I think? Honestly, they paid a lot for silence, so…”

Now both the guards were frowning deeply. One leaned forward, quickly snatching the pouch from Sam’s outstretched hand. “Gimme that. Let’s see what’s so important Dao couldn’t send it to post.”

Both sentries crowded together, eagerly opening the pouch. They frowned in tandem, and the one holding the bag turned it over, dumping a purplish powder onto the gratings. Paz’s heart stopped, then started, whizzing to a frantic beat as she realized how much absom was being poured onto the ground and their boots.

Holy fuck. Sam… _Sam_ had stolen at least _half_ of the product she’d seen on the Lakai.

It took every ounce of willpower not to step back.

“What the fuck is this?” the guard who hadn’t upended the pouch demanded. “Sand?”

“It looks—.” His counterpart cleared his throat. “It looks like dust. Wait, is—?”

He couldn't finish, an urgent fit of coughing coming over him. At his side the other sentry crouched to further study what they’d just opened, but by the time he popped a squat he’d also taken on that weird, cringing look, eyes beginning to water. He was trying not to cough.

Somewhere in the background, Sentia uttered an arrogant huff. “What’s wrong with them?”

As if she didn’t already know. Anger boiled through Paz, highly aware Sentia had been in on this. She _had_ to. There was no way she would’ve thought they could steal another ship otherwise, not without weapons.

And now she knew what Sam expected of her, too. A large part of her resented it, but the instant she saw both the guards faces turning red while they choked on their own tongues, she pushed forward and between the guards, grabbing one and knocking him to the ground with her. He screamed but not for long—she wrapped one elbow around his neck, totally making things that much worse for him while his throat closed up. Her other arm was busy wrestling around him to grab his rifle.

Mere meters away Lonyn had already tackled the other guard, both gunning for weapons. Lonyn, as usual, had a better handle on her victim, her Nav training coming in loud and clear. She was able to rip away his rifle in a flash, kicking him away and rising to stumble down the bridge while her prey began coughing up blood.

Oh, fucking gross. Paz wasn’t _trying_ to look but it was difficult when the guy was so close. Focusing on her own guard, she yanked and yanked at his belt until his rifle came away clean, but not before the guard was flailing, doing his best to gasp for air while also not succumb to some bitch who’d just to sent him to the ground.

One of his elbows knocked her helmet but she didn’t think much of it, scrambling away from him after a good kick to the gut and rolling until she could stagger upright, following their pilot. With guards wheezing and retching behind her she booked it after Lonyn down the bridge and into the hatch of a much bigger, much more capable ship, highly aware both Sam and Sentia were on her heels.

Up ahead someone shouted, and then bullets ricochetted up above. Soon as the shooting began an alarm also thrummed through the ship, which was both annoying and panic-inducing. Adrenaline surged in Paz. She wasted no time pulling herself up the hatch’s ladder, climbing into a very Nav decorated hall and throwing herself to the opposite side of the hall where their pilot had taken cover behind a support beam. Lonyn paid the interlopers no mind, an automatic in her hand and doling out more shots with rapid efficiency. Twenty meters ahead of them lay several Nav cops already on the gratings, but there were at least five still standing, all of them copying Lonyn’s bid for cover behind more supports. Despite the alarm they were shouting all sorts of nasty things, and at least one of them was calling for backup.

Well, they couldn’t have that, now could they?

“Hold back!” Paz hollered to the rest of their crew, sure neither Sam nor Sentia was stupid enough to jump into live fire (but you could never be too sure, honestly). Warning out of the way, she took a deep breath, ignored a slight itch climbing up her throat and pushed out of cover to return fire. Unlike Guinto’s rifle, the Nav-issued gun was a lot easier and a lot more comfortable in her hands, and its kickback wasn’t as harsh. Paz took advantage of that, eagerly helping Lonyn out where she could.

Back and forth they pinned and shot down at least a few more cops before remaining stragglers fell back, retreating deeper into the ship and around a corner. Clearly cursing, Lonyn emerged from her cover and darted down the way, absolutely intent on commandeering this ship with or without cooperation. Having found that lethal calm, Paz tailed her, heart still hammering in her chest regardless. She had no idea how they’d gone from fooling the Lakai and simply disappearing to grabbing an entirely different ship, oh and murdering some guards while they were at it. They’d already waded into this mess however, so they might as well finish it.

Sentia had _better_ figure out their bracelets.

Before they rounded the next corner she barked backwards to the others, telling them it was clear. “Now get your asses up here and pick up some protection while you’re at it!”

Sam shouted back confirmation, leaving Paz to rush into another long corridor, its metal panelling way too familiar. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and she had no doubt Lonyn was feeling the same way, both of them pounding across gratings splattered with blood. Someone had lost a boot, too. Weird. Paz eyed it as they pushed past, twisting around another corner before immediately backpedalling.

Bullets and lasers filled the air they’d just occupied. In her own world, Lonyn shoved against the corner, readying her rifle. Clearing her throat behind her, Paz did the same. How many motherfuckers were on the ship? Judging by the fact they’d already been in _two_ halls with next to nothing inside them it had to be huge. There were probably a lot of officers. Great. Was anyone keeping track? Did that even matter?

Fuck, probably.

Goddamnit, they needed to shut the cops down _now_. Hacking, Paz sidled around and threw herself across the hall to the next wall. Lasers followed her path but the second she’d touched the paneling she was zipping down the next hall in a zigzag. Cops became shadows she needed to dodge, shouldering through too many to count and pushing herself in the direction of a— _fuck_.

“Door!” she shouted and pinged back to Lonyn, who was already using the distraction to her favor. While most cops had turned to follow Paz’s movements she’d swung around the corner and begun mowing them down, one by one at a dizzying pace. The air filled not only with that infernal alarm but screams of pain, gathering their peer’s attention. Officers scrambled to determine who they should be focusing on, their side showing a major respite in fire. Both the Hylerian and the pilot milked that confusion for all they could, rapidly raising the body count until the final officer fell, their body slamming to the grates with a hiss.

With the hall cleared, Lonyn expertly picked her way through the debris to join Paz at the door, keen eyes likely looking over its clearance panel beneath her helmet. A rush of footsteps from behind and two more people joined them, Sam grabbing Paz by the shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. Sentia squeezed between her and Lonyn to study the clearance panel herself, gloved fingers already tapping at its screen. Whatever she was doing it seemed to work, the partition hissing a few moments later, access granted.

“Let’s go,” Lonyn ordered, dipping through the threshold first, rifle up and at the ready. She’d switched it for another one on her way to Paz, and this one had plasma rounds. That’d give them some relief, hopefully.

The next hall was deserted, though no one felt brave enough to check any of the doors on either side. Instead, they followed in a line behind Lonyn, with Sam and Paz bringing up the rear. He fell into step at her side, both of them on high alert, weapons raised, as they traipsed behind the others. Lonyn did shoot down two more officers the deeper they went, but other than that it seemed fairly empty, and it quickly became clear where they were headed once they climbed another ladder up to the next deck.

Their pilot was looking for the cockpit.

“There’s got to be more of them,” Paz muttered, swallowing an uncomfortable lump in her throat, stinging eyes still scanning the panelling despite their hurry. “We didn’t—there weren’t that many—.” She had to cut herself off, unable to keep in a cough.

“You okay?” Sam asked, practically at her hip. While she nodded, she couldn’t clear her throat, that irritation climbing and—

Oh, _fuck_. It wasn’t possible. She’d—but she’d put on her helmet! Her suit was sealed! Eyes watering, she reached up to check at her neckline where her helmet met the rest of the suit, gloves running along the seam. Nearby she heard Sam curse, his own gloves pressing to a spot at the back of her neck.

So, maybe when she’d put on her helmet she hadn’t been as thorough as she’d thought. And, you know, perhaps getting jostled when she’d brought down the first dude…maybe that hadn’t helped. Fuck.

“Breathe,” Sam unhelpfully, but in a well-meaning way, advised, holding that spot with one glove.

“What’s up?” Sentia wondered from up ahead, turning. This was promptly followed with another curse. “Damn. Hang on. Once we secure the ship we’ll get her some water.”

Oh, fantastic, they needed to secure the ship first. Paz was _thrilled_. Dragging herself to the nearest wall she stayed there, Sam at her back, trying for the life of her to either not breathe or stop coughing. Fuck, she wanted to wipe at her face so bad, she couldn’t see anything, and her heart was pounding, the need for air becoming incredibly pressing. She should’ve put her helmet on much earlier, should’ve secured it better. _Fuck_.

“It’s okay,” Sam murmured behind her, one glove still on her neck while the other held her hip. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna get you some water.”

She tried to tell him to fuck off because that was ridiculous, but there wasn’t enough air. Fuck, she had—this wasn’t—the helmet had to come off.

He was wrestling with her the instant she tried removing it, quick to argue that at least her suit might try and remove anything…well, he never finished, and somewhere in the back of Paz’s panicked thoughts she knew why.

The Lakai might not take kindly to knowing what, exactly, she was choking to death on.

Fuck him. Fuck this, fuck everything. She couldn’t think clearly, banging into the wall and trying to get Sam off her at the same time, practically drowning in her own saliva which was _so_ not a great feeling. Sam, bless his soul, resisted her attempts, doing his best to calm her down and keep the stupid helmet on.

In the background, even through the alarms, they heard a heavy thud, and then Lonyn hollered in delight.

“Hello, Nate. Long time no see!”

_Bang_!

As if on cue, Sentia rushed away, disappearing through another corridor and leaving a paling Sam to deal with Paz. She shivered in his hold while he tepidly reassured her they’d get some water soon. Whatever was going on up ahead it was happening fast, with Lonyn and Sentia bickering more, then a distinctly male scream joining the fray of alarms before another shot fired. Keeping her glued to the wall, Sam covered Paz while pointing a rifle he’d picked up from the last hall in every which direction, like he’d actually take a shot should things go to hell.

Even as her throat closed up and the shakes grew, Paz knew he wouldn’t take a shot. He didn’t do that kind of shit. He could talk all he wanted about how he’d ‘learned’ on his way to her but Sam wasn’t a killer. Poisoner, apparently, but not a shoot-them-in-the-face killer. He’d goddamned try though for her, and that meant the universe to her.

Her heart warmed at that, even if she felt herself slumping to the floor, vision pittering to black.

At least the alarm slipped away with her coherence.

The void didn’t have a chance to hit, not with someone guarding her. Instead, she was thrown into something harsh and unforgiving and suddenly her helmet was being screwed off. Over the whooshing in her ears she heard vague, terse remarks but they were jumbled. Someone was manipulating her, pushing her knees to her chest, shoulders crunching together, head tilting back as far as it would go. She couldn’t focus on anything to save her life, the space around her a quivering, ugly mess of shadows.

Even in this state she was struggling to breathe, struggling to let go of the angry convulsions currently overpowering her. Strangely, her thoughts weren’t all over the place, not until something hard and rubbery pushed between her lips and _then_ she had a meltdown. Holy fuck, it was bad enough she was choking and out of control of her own body, but now something was trying to fuck her mouth and—

Oh no, no it wasn’t doing that. Oh thank the fucking universe. A harsh spray of water jetted down her throat instead, and she didn’t have the time nor working motor skills to stop it. Shit, what the fuck was going on?

Bewildered, her vision eventually smoothed out, a shaky Sam hovering over her, helmet off and sweat pouring down his face. He was the one holding whatever it was to her mouth, and when she started she discovered she was in some kind of container—oh, a wash basin of sorts. Fantastic. The second he saw her eyelids flutter he dropped even closer, and even though she couldn’t hear him she knew he was shouting at her. Judging by the worry on his face she assumed he was concerned.

Stuck with a fucking _tube_ gushing down her throat she didn’t really have a way to answer him but she tried, goddamn did she try. Her head shook, arms weakly working upward to grab the hose. Sam held firm, shaking his own head. While her veins and head pounded her ears cleared, and suddenly she could hear both him and the goddamned alarm once more.

“What the fuck were you thinking? Paz! You can’t do that! This shit’s toxic!”

Ah, so he was a little more pissed than concerned. Paz kept yanking on the tube and he kept it right where it was, right until she felt like she was going to vomit and—

And then she did, violently turning away from him, spitting out the hose and unleashing a torrent of filth. At least it wasn’t the first time Sam had seen something like this. One free hand held her by the back of the neck, keeping her mostly upright. The second she was finished heaving however he turned her around and shoved the hose back between her lips.

This process was repeated at least three more times, and each time she retched out more water and bile and nasty-ass whatever else was in her system she felt…well, somehow better. Her throat still burned like hell, as did her stomach now, but her eyes weren’t tearing up as much and her skin didn’t feel like it was going to crack open so there was that.

The entire time Sam stayed with her, holding onto her, making sure she kept sucking water down, lecturing her about how she should’ve had her helmet on properly. In the background the alarm cut off halfway through, Sentia’s shouts coming from elsewhere. Lonyn’s popped up overhead, crackling and fuzzy, too difficult to listen to.

Paz kept her focus mostly on Sam, grateful _someone_ was willing to help her out, even if she had no idea where they were in the ship or what was happening. He stayed with her, kept her awake when she wanted to succumb to the void, and ensured there was enough water to dilute whatever had gotten into her system. Even though he was pissed, she understood why: even Val had never been able to keep Paz in a suit for very long. It just wasn’t possible.

And even so, even as she relaxed into the tub, dazedly watching him taper off water, dividing his attention between her and whatever was behind him, she knew he was pissed with himself, too. Had they all been on the same page, perhaps none of this would’ve happened.

But if she’d known, she would’ve found a way for their crew to stay with the Lakai, because this was not at all how she’d thought they’d escape.

That was what she thought about while she faded out, relatively confident she would wake up. Sam didn’t appear too concerned when she finally shut leaden eyelids, slipping deeper into the container while he kept a cold, wet hand on her forehead.

He never left her. She so appreciated that about him, his comforting presence keeping her somewhat lucid, even if she didn’t feel like opening her eyes. Even if she didn’t feel like, you know, moving. At least _someone_ was with her.

Until the worst roar of fire and screaming metal ripped around her, body pushing in every direction like it couldn’t decide where to go, and then he was gone. She knew only because he desperately tried to hold onto her, failing the louder the roar grew, an intense pressure pushing down on _everything_.

And then the void claimed her. The last thing she recalled she was still wishing…wishing she’d told the others goodbye.

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (You know Paz's internal monologue is mostly "I told these motherfuckers this'd happen!!!!!" at the moment)


	67. Ch 65

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well look at that, turns out crashing can indeed be a terrible idea.

Something was chirping, calling to her, which was weird, because she was pretty sure she wasn’t in the void, not anymore. It’d been pretty silent this last time, nothing trying to bully her into doing its bidding and whatnot.

No, this time, the chirping was coming from elsewhere. Maybe…from within? She wasn’t sure, but she heard the soft, gentle noises encouraging her. A soothing melody accompanied it, almost like it was trying to lull her out of whatever state she was in. Figuring she’d follow it, Paz did her best to roll onto her back, pushing sore arms back to rise, blinking away a heavy sleepiness that seemed impossible to…

Wait, no. She couldn’t open her eyes.

What…?

Oh no. No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening. Every time Paz tried forcing her eyelids open it was like they were glued shut, and she had a pretty good idea why considering she was so damn cold she couldn’t even feel…well, anything.

Panic quickly trumped trying to figure anything out. Something—her hands, she thought—finally smacked into her face, gloves swiping hard at her eyelashes. Ice shattered, cascading sideways down her face and a bit into her nose. She hacked at the intrusion, breathing in bitching cold air, still brushing off what she could despite the angry numbness claiming the rest of her. It felt like she was rising, which was good, but she had no idea how. Was she doing it?

Why—why did she smell burning fuel?

Scrunching up her face, she tried again, managing to pry one eye open before the other. A blurry paste of shimmering white and grey met her, and she had to take a second to let it process before realizing what the grey bits were. The white parts were snow and ice, _that_ much she’d already stupidly determined, but the rest…

A mangled wing protruded out of the whiteness, rising on her right and jutting straight up. It was huge, and a jagged piece of the Nav’s emblem stretched across its surface. Beneath it smoke billowed, just as it did in most directions she looked. Every which way there were more giant pieces of machinery, all of it looking like it was meant to fly yet…not flying at all.

Ah, fuck. It immediately dawned on her this was their ship. Or, what remained of it. Dumbfounded for more than a moment, Paz stared at the wreckage. What the fuck had happened?

Despite the numbness she somehow felt her stomach clench, thoughts zooming to the others. Where was Sam? Sentia? Lonyn? Anyone? It was difficult to do but she whipped her head around, scanning the blinding whiteness and contrasting bleakness of debris. Where she sat right now, half on one hip and an elbow, she couldn’t see any sign of them.

Which, of course, was why she screamed a second later because holy fuck, where were the others? Her scream came out as a pathetic, crackling mewl instead, and it was very painful what with her raw throat and the freezing air invading her lungs, but it didn’t stop her from doing so a few more times.

Scrambling to unfeeling feet, Paz twirled about in a dizzying rush. She felt so light, like if she were to jump she might float. That was all…all kinds of wrong, right? Her heart pounded harder in its cage, providing a slight warmth that was desperately working from within, forcefully thawing its way through her body. Not her lungs though. Fuck, her lungs _burned_.

Where were they? _Where were they_?! She couldn’t be the only one. She couldn’t.

There was no one around. Dropping back to her knees (it felt like she’d flounced, not the harsh hit she’d expected) she immediately sent a group ping, _needing_ someone to get back to her. The amount of unread pings already waiting for her was ridiculous but she didn’t check those because they weren’t from her crew.

No response, not for the time being. Wheezing more curses, she looked around again, that light sensation crawling all over her in such an awful way. What the fuck was she supposed to do with _any_ of this? She didn’t—didn’t even know where she was. Up above there was just a blanket of swirling, white, heavy clouds covering the sky and snow pushing sideways in the whipping wind. Frigid as she was, that previous anger was still working through her, still trying to warm her up. It seemed impossible, _felt_ impossible, but she had to believe she’d figure this out.

She always did. Always. Right?

She screamed for Sam, uncaring how much it hurt or how easily the noise died on the wind. Screamed again, just in case he did happen to be nearby. Nothing. She repeated that process for both Lonyn and Sentia. Again, nothing.

By now her thoughts were more oriented and she was back on her feet, scanning the terrain for a hill or something, anything to better see what she was up against. There looked to be a little knoll to her left. She’d head that way in a second, wading through the snow toward the bigger pieces of wreckage instead to see if there was anything useful. Or, you know, any bodies.

There were. There were many, and they were all essentially popsicles. She stumbled around the wreckage observing each and every body, shuddering in relief upon realizing none were from her crew. No, these were all Nav cops.

But if they were here, where had her crew gone? They’d all been on the same damn ship. They couldn’t have gone that far, right? She hoped they were alive. These cops were the ones they’d…taken out. She knew this because one of them was missing a boot.

Where.

Were.

They?

She returned back to screaming but a heavy splotch of black poofed into existence in the clouds above. It started small, then spread, pushing out and out and out. Fixated on the stain, Paz’s jaw went slack. It loosened further as another puddle of black burst close to the first one.

Three more had sprouted before the noise finally hit. Heavy, metallic groans rained down from the sky, something not even the snow or clouds could cover up. Crouching like it might help, trying not to think about what that sound might mean, Paz squinted from the sky to the horizon. Even if she couldn’t see it she knew there was something going on, and it wasn’t good.

The groaning grew louder in waves, coming and going. Sure she’d need to get going soon, she abandoned the wreckage and headed for the hill she’d spotted earlier. Time to figure out where she was and, if there was more debris, check it out.

There was. Soon as she reached the crest more came into view, and she raced in its direction without thinking. Not like anything could get any worse. She was fuck knew where, alone, and she was pretty sure there was a skirmish going on above her. This was confirmed when glimmering specks began falling, diving for the surface at an alarming rate. Given their size she was sure they were far off, but in the time it took her to run to the next site it became apparent those specks were falling…everywhere.

Damn, it was like the stars themselves were collapsing, and when the first one crashed, probably dozens of kilometers away, she still heard it’s thunderous explosion. Still felt the ground shiver.

“D-don’t think about it,” she hissed to herself, hating how strangled that sounded, and with chattering teeth it was just pathetic. Arms clutching at her sides, Paz waded to the nearest site, repeating that mantra to herself in awful whispers. She hated this. Hated every single second of it. From giant pieces of jagged, sheared metal (that looked like the hull) to scattered bits of machinery (probably parts of the engines and scrubbers) there was so much destruction. Each time another ship crashed she could only imagine it looked a lot like what she was searching through, only much more fiery. At least here there’d been some time for the flames and smoke to clear, even if some still raged.

Only a few bodies were nestled in the secondary site, all also Nav. Feeling rather desperate, Paz found the tallest standing structure, a long beam that’d apparently stabbed itself into the ground. Forgoing the cold momentarily, she shucked her suit because she needed her hands for this, even if each digit was numb as fuck. Grabbing hold of its base, she scaled the beam in jittery, shaking movements. It was almost too easy given how weightless she felt, but she knew it’d still hurt if she slipped and fell. Everywhere above her specks were cascading, rivaling snow at this point. Ye, there was definitely a battle going on. Anytime a crash occurred in the nearby vicinity the beam shuddered, swaying precariously.

Reaching the top, she glared out into the snow covered terrain, slowly swinging around the pole. _Now_ there were too many crash sites to count, let alone keep track of, but there were no more old ones. The horizon was growing thick with more and more acrid smoke, putting a damper on how far she could squint anyway.

Goddamnit. Her crew was gone.

Highly aware of the meltdown rising from her core, Paz pinged them several more times, spamming them with messages.

Nothing.

The radio silence was literally the only reason she bothered checking her other pings. She had no other choice. They were all from Coram and Desh, all couple dozen of them. Each one was more worried than the last, and it didn’t matter who sent the ping; they grew increasingly erratic and full of errors.

Wheezing, still hanging on to the top of the beam, Paz started to send a short message back to Desh (he at least deserved _something_ ) but stopped. Two things garnered her attention, both at the same time. One, she’d caught the warnings in her comm’s peripherals, advising against being out in extreme conditions as well as the low oxygen and gravity count. That, of course, instantly reminded her nobody but her could survive in this kind of environment, and for once she highly detested that notion.

Two, there was something zipping in her direction, a dark shadow tearing across the snowfields, half obscured by smoke and snow. It was hauling ass, whatever it was. Frozen in place (her muscles couldn’t fathom trying to climb down), she cautiously watched it approach. It dodged several crashing ships, drawing closer and closer until she could determine it was a rover.

She’d never seen one move so fast, not when it slammed to a halt in front of her less than a minute after she’d seen it on the far-off horizon. Unsure how easily spotted she could be (come on, it was practically a blizzard out here and she was all the way at the top), Paz ducked her head a little and continued watching, praying to the universe that her crew was in there. Her senses were searching for them, for Sam’s telltale presence, but it was impossible. She was too cold, too numb to really feel anything.

The rover sat still for maybe another minute while she swayed with the beam, listening to the howling wind and accompanying battle from all directions. Thinking maybe they hadn’t spotted her at all, she cocked her head. What were they waiting for? She needed…needed to know if it was her crew or not, and she was ashamed she couldn’t sense anything.

Then the doors swung open, loud, obnoxious shouts joining the cacophony in the air. Paz’s entire body went stiff while several blurry figures poured out of the rig, more than three people, and spread out into the wreckage site. They carried guns, a fact she only recognized when lasers swept across the snow and some of debris.

Fuck. The Nav had her surrounded. Still, she didn’t move. Didn’t even try and breathe, stupidly hoping if she blended into the scenery they might not notice her.

Someone did, she wasn’t sure which one, but soon enough those lasers were being waved around in her direction, fucking with her vision while they passed over her face. Shouts rose, angrier than before, and unfortunately she understood them this time, too.

“Kamul Lapata—get your ass down here before we shoot you down!”

“I can’t,” she called back, though it was essentially no louder than a croak. Her limbs were too stiff; there was no way she could get down unless she just wanted to drop. She tried to motion this, aware they couldn’t hear her over everything else.

Either they didn’t understand or care, because a moment later someone shot the beam with a plasma rifle. Sucking in a lungful of awful, painfully cold air, Paz tried tightening her grip on the pole even as it shuddered and tipped sideways. Everything went lopsided along with it, slowly careening into the snow with a metallic groan and a puff of icy shards. Somehow, through no volition of her own, she managed not being crushed by the beam, but her chin did smack its surface once it crashed and _that_ fucking hurt.

Everything hurt, to be honest. She didn’t even know how! It was like half of her was numb as hell, and the rest was painfully screaming in agony. Fuck, this was so frustrating, and where was her suit? Why’d she fucking take it off? Her _skin_ burned everywhere it touched the snow, and that was in a lot of places.

Before she had a chance to try and get up on her own a pair of big hands roughly grabbed her by the shoulders, ripping her from the beam with another dying scream. Fighting on instinct, it wasn’t as impressive when it didn’t really do anything. Paz still tried, weakly thrashing despite being thrust onto her feet and restrained by not one but two cops in the warmest, coziest looking suits she’d ever set her eyes on. Even their helmets looked super insulated. Shivering uncontrollably at this point, she wanted one so goddamned bad.

More surrounded her, rifles of all styles suddenly trained on her with deadly accuracy. Hardly able to think, let alone wonder why her chin felt so wet all the sudden, Paz sized up the cops immediately closing in on her. With hands tight on her arms and bodies forcing her to stay where she was, she had to exhale in exhaustion. They hadn’t shot her yet, not even with such a good range, making her think they weren’t here to kill her. That was just…great, she supposed.

She was headed to one of those vaults, wasn’t she? She couldn’t imagine anything else, and yet it was hard to do more than weakly squirm between her new sentries.

Fuck. How was she…like, what was she supposed to do in this scenario? She could hardly move, could hardly breathe, and that lightness made her insides constantly pulse in shock. There wasn’t enough control in her body to _do_ anything. And yes, Coram would be laughing at her, because she definitely wasn’t thinking at the moment.

One of the cops pushed forward from the others, stepping right up to her. Despite being less than a meter away she couldn’t see their face through the helmet’s thick, opaque visor. They loomed right over her, apparently studying her, before stepping back. One gloved hand waved at the others, signaling something.

“You’re fucking lucky, Lapata,” the one in front of her announced, voice flat and ugly coming from their suit. “Can’t lift off at the moment, but don’t worry—got a nice cell with your name on it in the meantime.”

Somehow, she didn’t see their fist until it made contact with her face, and the goddamned void dragged her in yet again.

It welcomed her with open arms this time.


	68. Ch 66

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lapata's playlist is definitely playing Bronson's "Call Out" while Paz stews in Nav prison ;)

At least it was warm in her cell. Paz vowed to never take off a suit if she was ever allowed in one again. Didn’t care what make or model, she’d _live_ in it. Chances were slim what with being stuck in a smooth box, its material foreign and lacking in paneling or anything she could use to her advantage. She’d tried; there was nothing.

So for now she was idly kicking at the solid, impenetrable door, half basking in the humid warmth while listening to weird playlists on Lapata’s comm, and half kicking herself for being such an idiot. For her _entire_ crew’s idiocy.

She’d tried them dozens more times since she'd woken up and, in a furious panic, clawed at the walls, but no response ever came. More pings came in from the Lakai, and while she was tempted to beg for help she just…

What was she going to she say, huh? Help, they’d meant to flee but then things went wrong and now she probably was on Hyleris but she wasn’t exactly sure and also she’d been captured by the Nav so could someone pretty please come rescue her despite being warned there would be no such rescues? Oh and also they’d stolen a fuck ton of absom so, you know, please overlook that because it’d apparently been necessary to flee?

Ye, she didn’t want to have that kind of conversation. Things were fucked. _She_ was fucked and so was her crew. Her feet kept kicking at the door, soles weary and sore by now.

Guilt, and shame, wracked her when she’d first come to. Sam was all she could think of, consumed by the idea that he and the others were probably dead, and she’d caused their demise by not stopping them. Not a logical conclusion, fine, but that didn’t stop her. In one corner she’d dry heaved while the rest of her body shook, desperately still attempting to fix itself from her previous romp in the freezer.

Hours passed, however, and she slowly grew apathetic. She was stuck in a box, it didn’t feel like she was going to be let out anytime soon, and unless she could magically walk through walls then she had no more tricks to pull. Seriously. She’d tried shoving on the broken cloak from Beta but it didn’t function properly, barely doing more than shading her a little more. It wasn’t even enough to blend into the dank walls.

There was no light source, only the slight crack around the door, so she couldn’t pull a fucking miracle and try and electrocute herself, either. So, you know, she was trapped. For real, this time. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling and, weirdly enough, she was now using this time kicking at the door reflecting on _why_ it felt so bad.

Probably had a lot to do with the betrayal coursing through her blood, both from and toward herself. Sentia had fucked them over, which meant…Sam had also done the same, what with their plotting, but she liked to think Sam hadn’t thought everything through. Sentia should’ve known better. Lonyn had been trying to make the best of their situation; she’d seen that in their pilot’s actions.

And then she’d betrayed Desh, and Coram, and the Lakai in general. That part didn’t really bother her except for Desh, because he’d tried. He’d attempted leading her to the light, attempted making her better, becoming ‘her own god’ as he liked to say, and she’d utterly failed him. She’d told him she would, but still. When she admitted her fuckery she’d meant it in very different ways, not getting her stupid ass handed to her via the Nav.

So, with that in mind, she decided whatever happened the Nav would regret their decision to grab her. She’d had experience with pissing people off recently, and she was super good at it. Just because they’d caught her did not mean they’d relish the victory.

Eventually her comm determined her location and other somewhat useful stats. She was indeed on Hyleris, somewhere. The exact location her comm couldn’t figure out, which was just fantastic, and she had a feeling that was because there were no existing networks here. None. No wonder none of her pings were being answered. Whatever she _was_ receiving from the Lakai was likely delayed by hours, if not days, and anything she sent back probably wouldn’t even make it, not with such weak signals. Her comm could just barely figure Hyleris’s hours, let alone what day it was, too.

With that in mind, the first time her cell door opened and blinding light poured into the tiny space, of course the first thing she choked out was a wheezy, “I’ve been in there for _ever_ and I really need to piss.”

A shadow cut into the light, but when she received no response she tilted her head off the ground and added, “Am I supposed to use the floor, a corner? Should there be a bucket in here?”

Someone sighed, the door filling even more. “Get up. You have a hot date with my superior.”

“ _Ooh_ ,” Paz mocked in a sultry tone (it came out nothing like that, but it was the thought that counted), remaining exactly as she was, though her legs did sprawl out the door. “Sounds great, but I’m going to have to decline. Really not interested in cops and—”

Getting kicked in the groin, as a female, wasn’t the worst thing that could happen but it still hurt, and she still squeaked out in pain, instantly rolling one way and into a loose ball. That hadn’t been what she was going for, but okay, now she knew the rules.

After several more lame attempts to _not_ go anywhere, Paz found herself being wrestled upright with both hands clutched behind her back, cuffs clicking into place next. Crammed in the cell with the officer, she tried spouting insults but they were weak at best and couldn’t really be heard because her voice wasn’t all there. Knowing now was not the time to fight, Paz kindly allowed the fucker to shove her outside and into a paneled hallway that looked every bit like something the Nav would own. Good old Nav, never changing a thing. She had to admit she liked that about them.

Only one officer had come to rouse her, and the very same one accompanied her down the empty hall to their left past dozens of doors, all of them crammed close together. This seemed like a prison, or a holding center at the very least. And, given she only had one minder, she assumed they found her weak and easily manipulated.

That was technically true at the moment, but she’d figure shit out. She always did, even if things appeared…grim. Actually, being pulled from her cell was probably a good thing. It gave her room to breathe and a vague idea where she was.

Nav prison, obviously, but a quick glance overhead at the translucent ceiling indicated there was still a frigid storm outside as well as a fight in the skies. The little black puffs decorating the harsh clouds told her she hadn’t been in her cell that long. Long enough to thaw, long enough to stew, but not long enough to piss on the floor. Timeline: accomplished.

They didn’t go far, no more than a few turns and another corridor before the officer planted her in front of a more spaced out door, knocking sharply. He didn’t wait, shoving her in soon as the partition whooshed aside. Paz stumbled into a large, nearly empty room. Another cop stood against the far wall, back to her, more interested in what lay beyond the windows than her. Figuring this was where shit might get dicey she attempted memorizing the back of his stupid head but the one guarding her grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed down, hard. Her knees cracked on theground (that foreign, smooth material instead of the usual grates); she hissed more out of habit than the residual sting. Behind her she heard the guard looping something around her cuffs, metal clinking on metal.

“You just latch me to the ground?” she demanded in a breezy huff, scowling over one shoulder. The officer paid her no mind, ensuring she was indeed secure by yanking on her cuffs. They didn’t budge more than a few centimeters, both wrists now stuck at the small of her back. Paz exhaled, sick of this.

“She’s all yours,” her guard announced, backing off. Facing forward once more, Paz kept her mouth shut until the door slid back in place. Then she scanned the cop by the windows again, sizing up her new opponent. He was big, that was for sure. Bulky. Tall. He didn’t have that Hylerian vibe though, because of course Hylerians didn’t hang out in their own home. His Nav uniform was a little tight, and if she was in a better mood she might enjoy studying how his ass filled out the back.

The room went absolutely silent, Paz refusing to even breathe loudly. She wasn’t going to talk first, not to him, whoever he was. Any interaction with the Nav wasn’t going to be good.

The officer’s shoulders rolled back while he sighed, and then he turned, intent eyes falling on her. Paz stared right back, petulance wavering for a brief moment as the recognition hit. She knew him. He’d—

He was the guy from Beta, the one who knew _exactly_ who Kamul was. She hadn’t seen much of him because he’d had ballistic armor on back then, but that face…she knew the face. Goddamnit, he was here? Had he known she was coming?

Her eyes rolled. “You survived? Shame.”

“I could say the same,” he easily retorted, firmly rooted in his spot. Both hands tucked into his pant pockets while he looked her over from head to toe. “Though, I’m not surprised. I have some questions, Kamul. Or do you go by Topaz?” He paused, head tilting, clearly analyzing the color disappearing from her skin. “Regardless, you and I are going to become _well acquainted_ before you’re shuttled off. Normally I offer some comforts for my interrogations, but…”

He finally stepped forward, boots thudding on the ground as he slowly began circling her. “I want you uncomfortable.”

Focusing on the ground, Paz hunched her shoulders. “Great. Can I pee first?”

His boots stopped in front of her. “Go right ahead.”

When he made no move to, you know, _free her_ or anything to take care of business, Paz caught his drift and sneered, chin turning away. Fine. She’d hold it. The soft chuckle he offered indicated he knew that’d be her response.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, Kamul,” he explained, sounding almost reasonable. “I’m going to ask some very simple questions. You’re going to lie, and then I’ll rough you up. We’ll repeat that until you give me what I want.”

See, he’d sounded so normal until the end. Paz drew even further into herself, wishing he’d retreat back to the windows. “Cool. Can I ask my own questions or is this one-sided?”

“Feel free,” he humored, dropping to his haunches so they were nearly eye level. “I’d be happy to educate you on your grievous misunderstandings.”

Oh, this fucker talked a good game. Barely batting a bruised eyelash, Paz deigned cutting him a skeptical look. He could intimidate all he wanted; she wasn’t going to _panic_ panic until they started the countdown to a tank.

“Thanks,” she sarcastically enthused, voice cracking with effort. “So, what’s with the human experiments in your guys’s basement?”

The cop hardly reacted beyond a slight smirk, though he did rise back to full height. “Cutting to the chase, ye? Alright. That’s where you belong, Kamul. You know why.”

She had the piss poor explanation Coram had given her, but if this motherfucker wasn’t going to do more than taunt her then she supposed that was all she’d get. Paz made a face at his boots.

“Anything else?” He clearly didn’t care what she asked.

“I’m sure I’ll think of more. Get on with your bullshit.”

Those boots shifted. “It occurs to me you speak nothing like a Hylerian. Why are you wearing Kamul’s biometrics, Topaz? Or is it the opposite, and you’ve managed blending in perfectly with my kind?”

He must’ve been pissed the first time they’d met because he had _not_ sounded like this, either. Figuring she had nothing to lose, Paz shrugged.

“Gonna have to let you figure that one out on your own. It’s more fun that way.”

It was _not_ fun when his knee crashed into her already aching chin, sending a sharp jolt through her skull and whipping down her neck. Knocked back, Paz yelped a little late. To be honest she was surprised they’d already jumped to that kind of interrogation. Usually when she was doing these kinds of questionings with cops (and okay yes, usually they were small-time cops on gate patrols) she managed a few more jabs before it became physical.

“You look like Topaz Omorin,” he calmly commented, ignoring her reeling state. “Who, incidentally, we’re searching for. But then your biometrics give you away as Kamul. So, did Topaz _lie_ to us while destroying our headquarters and _murdering_ more than a few Nav officers? Or was that Kamul?”

Swallowing the blood coating her tongue, Paz shook her head. “Who’s in more trouble?”

At least he snickered at that before stooping and grabbing her by the shirt collar, yanking her tight against the chain holding her down. Paz bit back her whine. Her shoulders had been ripped backwards worse before; they could handle a little stress.

“You think you’re funny?”

Oh man, she was signing her death warrant but it’d be worth it, gurgling, “Well I am Hylerian—I’m _hilarious_.”

He used his other fist to sock her in the temple, which stung like a bitch. Scaling back her snark, Paz went limp in his hold, head lolling one way while the pain blossomed around her skull, a headache pounding in the background.

“Let’s try that again. Are you Topaz Omorin, or Kamul Lapata?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (You're darn right I've been waiting 40 chapters to use the 'hilarious hylerian' joke again lol)


	69. Ch 67

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can try and cage Paz but in the end, Paz ain't gonna stay caged ;)

He didn’t get much out of her, and not for lack of trying. Paz was thrown back into her closet of a cell less than an hour later, still in cuffs, blood dripping from her nose and mouth and a hell of a lot of sore spots on her body that were quickly turning into bruises. She still needed to pee and her voice was burned to hell, but those were shoved in the back of her mind while she reeled on the ground, doing her best not to moan until a Nav guard locked her up.

Goddamn, these people didn’t play very nicely. She hadn’t expected they would, but she’d sort of assumed they’d give up asking the same stupid questions over and over. There was nothing for her to talk about, not with the Nav. That guy had growled and snarled, his threats becoming much more aggressive as time went on, but he never received straight answers from Paz.

As she’d vowed, they were not going to relish her capture, and she wasn’t going to willingly comply with their dumb questions, either. There was no point.

Knowing what she now faced, she curled up in a corner and nursed her wounds best she could, even managing to contort until her cuffed wrists were in front of her. Her comm was pulled up and she dutifully sent off pings while soothing herself with some of Sam’s playlists, even if she hadn’t received any notes since before the interrogation started. Sam, Lonyn, and Sentia received the brunt of her angry requests for information (any kind would do), while a few more were sent off to Kamul’s contacts.

Her interrogator hadn’t exactly _said_ it, but he’d alluded to the fact that there may have been more than a couple Hylerians running around. Rather than get her hopes up, Paz assumed those to be rumors. That didn’t stop her from soaring through Kamul’s list anyway, sure her pings would go nowhere like usual but trying regardless.

Finally, she pulled up Desh’s contact and let it sit in her peripheral for a good long moment, shame still coursing through her already stressed out blood. While the Nav cop had been beating her up she’d had a thought: confessing to anything done to harm the Lakai was an idiotic idea. Informing Desh their plan had failed and she was sorry, however, would be the nice thing to do for someone who’d invested a lot of his personal time pushing her to be a more disciplined, better version of herself.

So she sent him a ping apologizing for her failures and left it at that, aware it wouldn’t go through, not until she had better access to a network of any kind. Maybe he’d get it, maybe he wouldn’t; she’d tried.

But back to the bit where her interrogator mentioned perhaps more than one real Hylerian. She’d caught onto that because he’d been super distracted kneeing her wherever he saw fit and hadn’t realized he’d supplied her with information. He’d blamed Paz, naturally, for what was going on in the sky, and if there was a conflict of that proportion up there with more than one Hylerian, then she had to believe Guinto had survived. They’d survived and, apparently, found others? Either that or Sandova. She wasn’t completely sure, didn’t have the cold hard facts and again, didn’t want to get her hopes up, but _somebody_ was up there that was either like her, or like Kamul.

The interrogator was leaning towards her being Topaz because, duh, that’s who she was, but he was massively bothered by Kamul’s biometrics and like any other good bureaucrat couldn't get past it. That was what they spent the majority of their chat discussing, which sucked for both because nobody received what they wanted out of it. He didn’t get answers and she wasn’t any closer to figuring out how she might dodge this entire unfortunate situation.

With nothing else better to do and no leads, she shut her eyes and forced herself to rest. Sleep might not happen, but she needed to be as ready for whatever might come as she could, and she wasn’t going to be able to pull off sketchy ideas while exhausted. It didn’t take long before she was nearly dozing, aches and pains becoming a dull throb in the background. Meanwhile, all possible ideas were being evaluated, stupid ones set aside the second she ran into an issue and any promising ones further explored.

There really wasn’t a whole lot she could do on her own, so if she managed busting out she’d need distractions. Good thing this seemed to be a jail. Still as death, she let her tired senses spread out. There were a lot of people around, most of them alone, which she was willing to bet meant they were confined like her. Who they were she had no clue, couldn’t care less honestly, but if they were here then they probably weren’t friendly with the Nav.

Time moved, though she wasn’t sure how long. The buzzing in her head wasn’t as pressing any longer, and any residual injury stings had become tolerable. Plans drifted along, almost dissipating with the pain, but the second she heard the door working she forced that lethal calm down into her veins. Now was not the time to be shy about the difference between her and everyone else in this shack and honestly, Interrogator Dude had some blood she wanted to spill. Man, it sounded so dramatic she nearly laughed, facial muscles desperate to keep her mouth shut once the door finished opening.

“Get up.” It sounded like the same minder from before. Paz was relieved. She stayed huddled in her corner, feigning ignorance. Annoyed, the officer huffed and thudded two steps into the cell. “Yah, you hear me? Get up!”

Pretending she hadn’t heard him whatsoever, Paz mildly shifted, sniffling. He could come get her if he was serious.

He was, standing over her a moment later and reaching down to grab her by the cuffs.

Launching from the floor, Paz rammed her head into his gut and slammed him back into the other wall with a surprised ‘oof’. Well aware she was running on fumes she had to do this fast while adrenaline was at its strongest. While the guard reeled she brought her knee into his groin, let him crunch into himself, and then yanked her arms around his neck, cuffs providing a great little sling for his head. That sling whipped sideways, throwing him against the corner, his head cracking into the wall before sliding down into a gasping mess. Paz helped him, arms rotating as she straddled his back and pulled her cuff’s short chain tight against his neck.

Huh. That’d gone a lot better than she’d anticipated and she was a bit surprised she’d managed taking him down so easily. Thighs squeezing his sides, she debated growling some bitchy victory lines but cricked his neck backward instead, leaning down until her mouth was near an ear.

“Sorry, asshole. I’ve got things to do and you’re getting in the way.”

If he was conscious he wasn’t answering. Dropping his limp upper half, Paz straightened and swiveled this way and that, searching him for anything of value: clearance card (might come in handy), baton at his belt (oh, definitely taking that), and a small rifle (not really of the full-scale-war variety but she’d make do). With those three things she could wreak havoc (small-time, of course) so she stuffed his things onto her person and climbed off, lurching the two measly steps to the door and bursting into the empty hall.

That bit was rather anticlimactic. Breathing hard, Paz glanced about before shoving her door shut and pacing about in a tizzy. She was out! Where to start? After several antsy circles she crossed the hall to the closest door, clearance card whipped out. It pinged at the reader and she slammed the partition over, not even bothering to check who was inside before moving on to the next door.

Tentative questions filled the air by the time she’d hit her fourth new door and she growled under her breath, ignoring the hesitant people peeking out of their cells in her peripheral.

“Time to go!” she hissed, hating she couldn’t project her voice at the moment. It was a damned shame because she was sure she’d look a lot more authoritative if she could. “Get the fuck out of here!”

Nobody left their cells. Fuck, why’d she end up in a hall full of pussies? Where was the chaos she’d thought this’d cause? Undeterred, Paz kept going, scanning her card at every door in the hall. Nobody had come to shoot her down yet so that was promising, and by the time she’d reached the last few doors at least a person or two had warily ventured into the hallway, their eyes drawn to the stark ceiling and (ugh) blackened clouds above.

“What’s going on?” someone guardedly asked.

“Is this Hyleris?” asked another.

Damnit, she didn’t care, didn’t answer, just focused on her task at hand.

Until, “Topaz?”

Uh, fucking what? Pausing at the last door, Paz cut a glare down the hall to the handful of prisoners who’d left their confines. In her haste she didn’t recognize anyone, but that gruff voice sounded so familiar, if a _lot_ out of place.

And then Mandrelle parted the small crowd, his massive, muscled body homing in on her as if she’d never left the Osiris at all. Paling, Paz scanned open the last door, backing up. This was unexpected. She’d had a lot of ideas for this part, but none of them involved Val’s hired muscle. He would’ve made it to her, too, if the other end of the hall hadn’t erupted with Nav officers, all of them screaming orders that might as well have been gibberish. Soon as Mandrelle twisted to see what the fuss was about, Paz forced herself to make a decision.

Have at it with Mandrelle, because obviously this wasn’t going to be a good reunion, or buckle up and fuck the cops up since, currently, she did seem to be the only one with a gun? All these people wandering about in the hall _were_ making good meat shields at the moment. Would be a shame to lose that advantage.

Fuck it, she’d deal with Mandrelle’s hulking ass in a second.


	70. Ch 68

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Cues aggressive house music while the Nav chases Mandrelle, who's catching up to Paz*

There wasn’t a doubt in her mind Mandrelle was following her. The crashes made it extremely obvious. Paz kept her focus ahead, throwing herself around a corner and into a new paneled hall, shooting anything that moved and, when her tiny gun overheated, clobbering anyone who stood in her way. Honestly it was taking a long time wading through Nav officers. Mandrelle should’ve been able to reach her fairly easily, but she couldn’t risk looking back to see what the holdup was.

Instead, she pushed onward and pretended she knew what she was doing. It felt different this time, this need to blaze through a threat and claw her way to a goal. She didn’t know why. Just…something about having no real control of the situation, not even an iota, had put her on this focused path that she couldn’t be wavered from.

“Would you fucking slow down?”

No, no she would not, and she didn’t bother throwing a rude gesture in her wake. If Mandrelle wanted her then he could make the effort to speed up. Racing past panel after panel of doors and propaganda that made the trophy posters in Rahm’s home seem tame, Paz was more concerned with slugging cops every which way with her baton. It was particularly effective because no one wore a helmet inside and those uniforms didn’t have much protection, either. She swung at anyone who came too close, snarling pathetic threats but never stopping, always shouldering through the muck to gain more ground.

Wherever she was she there had to be a way out, a bay or hangar the Nav could exit from. Wandering hopelessly might not be the best option but it was the only option at the moment, her lungs burning and heart pounding while she swung through a cross-tunnel and made a sharp turn to the right. That was a mistake—more cops were pouring in from that direction. Backpedalling, she followed the path of lasers jittering down the way, zig-zagging even before shots rang out.

Ye, maybe she should’ve thought this through a little more. She was still thinking that when she passed through the cross-hall, panic threatening to rip apart what little productive calm she had left. Fuck, there were too many cops. She should’ve gone the stealth route, but how? Her comm barely worked, and she couldn’t spend time trying to shove on her surface mods at the moment.

Gasping for air, Paz barely noticed a hell of a lot of movement to her left. She wouldn’t have paid it any mind until Mandrelle’s loud bellowing echoed from the fray. Glancing over before she disappeared into the depths of another hall, she paled. He was gunning for her, both hands raised overhead, brandishing one of those containers, the ones she’d seen in Alpha and Beta along the walls, the ones she wasn’t sure what they contained.

He swooped in behind her and turned away, as if he wasn’t trying to chase her in the first place. Wasting no time, Paz pushed her legs faster, hoping to gain some distance while he was distracted with whatever he was doing. He could take on the cops for all she cared. They were shooting at him anyway so he might as well do something about it. He—

An explosion filled up the halls, rocking both the foundation and sending an immense, heated blast of air through the complex. Paz toppled to the concrete without warning, rolling to a halt. She shut her eyes the moment she caught sight of a wave of fire behind her, though it wasn’t close enough to hit. Thank the motherfucking universe. Damnit, her heart was racing, veins pulsing, sure that probably wasn’t supposed to happen. Halfway on her back, she simply lay there for a moment until the chaos died down a little. Screams were becoming more prominent than whatever’d just exploded, meaning people were still alive.

Fuck, she’d better use that. It was difficult standing though, and she’d barely made it to her knees before it occurred to her she was shaking. Shaking? Seriously? Ugh!

“Come on,” she hissed, making herself wobble upright. The hall had grown smoky, making it impossible to really see which way she should go. Still, she had to try. “That’s it, you got this.”

A giant body parted through the smoke, enveloping her before she knew what was happening. Suddenly Paz was up in the air and over someone’s shoulder, and then they were off. Screaming would’ve been nice but, given her limited vocal cords, she beat on the person’s back instead. It was Mandrelle. She knew it because she’d been in this position before and no, she wasn’t about to collapse and sob in joy.

He was moving quickly, efficiently, like _he_ at least knew where he was. Paz bounced up and down while he ran, determined to slide off him at some point. Her nails might not be the sharpest but she’d try her goddamned best to puncture through his grimy shirt and shoulders. Despite growling under his loud breaths he didn’t stop. They simply careened down another hall even faster, the smoke clear enough now that she could see they weren’t being followed.

That was a good thing, right?

“You seen Sentia?” were the first words out his mouth and honestly, she wasn’t surprised. Mandrelle and Sentia hadn’t exactly been in a relationship, but they’d…well, it wasn’t hard to know people’s personal habits and routines on a small ship like the Osiris. Still scrabbling with his back, Paz wasn’t about to admit to anything. Why? That fucker had stayed with Val. She owed him nothing!

“Fuck off!” she squeaked, voice cracking hard, nails still attempting to bite into his skin. Beneath her Mandrelle’s hard body tensed harder. His sudden bout of cackling laughter a moment later was unexpected.

“Why the fuck do you sound like a rat?” He threw them around another corner, twirling once to verify they were alone. “Paz—have you been in contact at all with Sentia?”

Well, at least he wasn’t pushing too hard on the vocal issue. Still offended, Paz’s legs kicked like it might help. “Like I’d tell you, fucker! Let me go!”

Goddamnit, his continued laughter was utterly humiliating. Paz wanted to shriek in annoyance. Her fists and claws weren’t doing anything, and bitching just seemed to set him off.

He took large steps, eating the concrete with ease while they wound down another corridor. “Seriously, I gotta know. Have you seen her?”

Motherfucking asshole, had he not heard her? Paz squirmed harder, his grip clamping down just as much.

“Ugh! No!” Taking in a deep breath she seethed, “Where’s Val?”

It may have occurred to her a second too late that maybe she’d let Val out and hadn’t realized it. Mandrelle’s demeanor didn’t really reveal anything though; he kept moving, kept pushing them away from wherever they’d come from. At this point Paz didn’t even know the way back.

“Bitch is overhead,” he finally replied in a terse tone, shifting her on his shoulder. “She—would you fucking stop? That hurts!”

Paz’s fingers gripped at his shirt instead, but only because he’d referred to their captain as a bitch. That didn’t sound correct coming from him. “What? Why’s she—but you’re down here.”

“Ye, well, that was the deal,” he explained, even though it explained nothing. They’d reached a door by then. Muttering a quick warning, he threw his other shoulder into the partition. A normal person wouldn’t have made a dent, but Mandrelle…well, he wasn’t exactly normal.

It only took him three jarring hits before metal gave and he was yanking the partition open, climbing right through while calmly continuing his thoughts. “She’s supposed to be monitoring. Sent me down here in case you had the bright idea of showing up, but I’m gonna be honest with you, you fucking monkey—I need Sentia. _Tell me_ she found you. Isn’t that why they left?”

“I—.” Fucking hell, Paz caught herself before she poured her soul to him. Now was _not_ the time to talk about this shit. “Look, can we focus on leaving? Not really interested in hanging out with the Nav.”

He was still snickering under his breath, her voice apparently the most amusing thing ever. Fantastic. “Tell me and we’ll be out of here in no time.”

“If you _dare_ try and send me back to Val—”

“I don’t care about Val!” the Osiris’s head-hunter roared, much louder than necessary. Thank the stars nobody was around, though Paz doubted that’d stop him. “All I want is Sentia. Got it?”

Maybe. Paz’s thoughts were still jumbled, the panic and fear she’d first felt upon seeing him still swirling in her subconscious. Cringing, she attempted pulling her head upright. The halls still looked the same, paneled and full of stupid posters touting dumb slogans.

“I _may_ have seen Sentia,” she finally wheezed, gut wrenching at the admission. If he dared turn on her now she didn’t know what she’d do, but she’d have to do something.

“Is she here?” he demanded, whipping around like their whole crew might be hiding right behind them. Paz glowered.

“No idea. We were on the same ship, but I don’t know where—”

“We’ll figure it out,” he harshly interrupted, picking up his pace. “Lon and Sam with her?”

“Hopefully?” she answered, growing uneasy when he chuckled darkly.

“They better. I got some words for them.” The instant she started squirming again he smacked the backs of her knees, making her jump. “Don’t. I don’t care about your bullshit. You take me to Sentia or I swear to all the fucking gods our next stop’s Val. Understand?”

So long as she made it out of here and _not_ into Val’s clutches, Paz totally did. Accepting the hand she’d been dealt, she gave up fighting and let him drag her on, even going so far as to hand him the clearance card she’d swiped. “Fine.”

She could feel the surprise rolling through his shoulders and spreading, even as he took the card. It wasn’t often Paz submitted to anything, willingly, and that’d been pretty willing.

“Look at you,” he loftily teased, his entire attitude shifting as they hit another door. This time all he had to do was swipe the card—so much easier. “Someone finally beat some manners into you?”

That lit the fire in her soul a little too quickly and she was right back to beating on him. “Say that again, asshole! You got a problem with me? I’ll take you on, any time, any day!”

Mandrelle was positively delighted with the response, her fists of rage mere annoyances. He swiveled through another door not long after the last, taking them into a stairwell and hurrying up steps two at a time, gratings rattling beneath their weight.

“Missed that fire, kid.”

Of course he did. Adding more colorful epithets to the air, Paz hung on while he ran. Mandrelle was good at it. Good at everything, actually. He always looked like he’d just been released from a twenty-year stint in Karkinos, always looked ready to snap necks, always had something to say when she was being a brat, and _always_ accepted her invitations to fight after the aforementioned snarky comments. She’d gotten the upper hand in several of those arguments, but he always won. It didn’t matter how good she punched or how hard she bit—he was still _at least_ double her weight and could sit on her and make her scream for mercy. That was how it’d always been and probably would remain.

Fucked up as it sounded, she’d missed the big guy. Hated him, obviously, given the situation, but still. Right now he was the one moving them from point A to point wherever the fuck he thought they could escape, so she’d let their… _issues_ slide.

They slammed out into an entirely new area, and just their luck they weren’t alone. Paz saw officers first since Mandrelle had turned, and she gasped out a warning which made him spin like a top. Lasers swung over them, and Paz was sure Mandrelle was nearly invincible but even he probably couldn’t take plasma to the head and survive. He froze, though he never put up his hands in any type of surrender. The head-hunter didn’t play games like that. If they were going to shoot, they were going to shoot. Realizing this, Paz wasn’t _as_ relieved by his presence any longer.

Officers were shouting more incoherent orders, all likely demanding he get on his knees or drop her, probably both. Mandrelle held perfectly still, sizing up the competition instead while Paz prayed that the universe might spare her from getting shot ass first.

That’d be absolutely the most embarrassing way to die.

“Got any ideas?” her runner inquired, voice barely audible over everyone else. Paz almost wanted to bitch at him for thinking she could possibly have _any_ at this point (he’d hijacked her desperate plans) but she pushed against his back regardless, scanning the hallway behind them. Seriously, the threat of having her ass shot was unreasonably high on her list of concerns at the moment and if he thought—

Those canisters. One lay down the hall in a corner, tethered to the wall. She didn’t know how, exactly, Mandrelle had used one to his advantage previously but whatever was inside had definitely exploded. Eyes flicking from the canister to the next doorway, she figured if they were fast and smart they might at least be able to throw themselves somewhat out of harm’s way. Mandrelle had the keycard in his free fist, and if he backed up she could probably grab the canister. Long as he didn’t drop her she’d hold onto that thing like it was a precious weapon, because it kind of felt like it was.

“Back up,” she croaked, aware their timing was critical. The guards before them couldn’t see what she was reaching for. Sensing his hesitation, Paz kneed him in the chest and appealed to his hardened demeanor. “Just do it, fucker.”

They worked best together when blunt. That’d never changed. Slowly, ever so slowly, Mandrelle did like she demanded, thankfully drawing her close enough to the canister while also appeasing the guards. Well, they hadn’t shot at them, so that was good enough.

Soon as she grabbed onto the canister the entire power dynamic changed. Mandrelle could feel the new weight, and it was like he knew exactly what she intended. He shoved forward, the canister coming with. They ignored the frantic shouts of cops, and apparently Mandrelle was betting on them not being shot for whatever reason, which was a stroke of sheer luck.

“Make it fast,” he snarled, already whipping around. Using the momentum, Paz swung the canister as hard as she could, throwing it down the hall. It sailed through the air, and someone stupidly shot at it midway through the space. Before the plasma hit Mandrelle whooshed backward, yanking Paz with and screaming toward the exit. They weren’t going to make it, there was no way, but maybe if—

They did not make it. A blast banged through the enclosed space, slamming both of them into the door’s partition along with a heated, burning burst of debris and fire. Paz shielded herself best she could, arms up and covering her face, though she still had more protection than she thought.

Somehow, in the time between the explosion and when they hit the door he’d swung her around in front of him. Her bones sang when she smashed shoulder first into the partition before him, but at least her back wasn’t being burned to bits. Mandrelle’s was; she could tell by the way his hum of wrath was strangely louder than the blast. Still, he kept her wedged between him and the door, never wavering, never letting go, until the tension in the air slowly melted away.

Coughing, choking on smoke, Paz slid out from his grasp once she deemed it safe. Pulling her shirt over her mouth and nose she squinted down the way. Even if she couldn’t see anyone standing she knew their pursuers had been killed. She couldn’t sense anyone’s living presence.

Fuck, that could’ve been so much worse for them. Waving away smoke she turned to survey Mandrelle’s back. Burned, badly, in way too many areas, but most of his visible skin was still intact. Very bubbly though. She didn’t even try getting a better look.

“Stupid idea,” he growled between gritted teeth, though he didn’t reprimand her, either. Paz nodded, searching for the door’s access panel.

“Thanks. Still got the card?”

Did he ever. Despite his back he pulled the card from a front pocket, and in a few minutes they were stepping into a new area, smoke trailing them like a shadow. In that moment Paz adored Mandrelle’s indestructibility. She took up the lead, rushing around a corner in hopes there’d magically be some sort of guide for the facility. There wasn’t, just more horrid panelling, but there _was_ something. Possibly worse than what they’d come from. She couldn’t decide, not yet. She skidded to a halt, wide eyes growing even larger.

Ten meters ahead Noc cautiously offered her a nod, both arms full of rifles—the good kind, too, with plasma. Around him lay several cops, blood and other matter spreading on the ground. Gaze flicking down to that mess and then back up at him, Paz’s jaw went loose.

“Uh…”

“Let’s get you out of here,” he called, brushing past the million things between them that needed to be addressed. “Figured you’d come this way.”

Still stunned, Paz slowly nodded, remembering Mandrelle when the other man groaned behind her. Explaining shit to him would be a nightmare, and adding Noc to the situation? _Ugh_. Angling her head she raised a concerned brow. Noc seemed to understand her skepticism, both arms reaching out even further to offer her a weapon.

“Wasn’t hard to figure out where you might be headed,” he gruffly explained, eyes glued to her. “Honestly, I thought we’d be waiting a lot longer. Captain’s dumber than I thought sending you here so soon.”

“He didn’t send me,” she instantly snapped in a weak croak, unsure why she even bothered attempting to defend Coram. “I—it was voluntary.” She blinked, scowling. “Not by me. Ugh! I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We need to move,” Noc emphasized, staring hard at her, ignoring her tiff. “He coming with?”

Whipping her head around real quick, Paz frantically nodded. Of course Mandrelle was coming with. He’d make an excellent addition to her personal team, injuries or not.

“Hold on—why are you here?” she demanded, twirling again back to Noc and frowning in panicked consternation.

Exasperated, the older Hylerian simply stated, “ _You_.”

“Fucker,” Mandrelle automatically hissed, veering until he hit a wall behind Paz. While every muscle cringed, Paz rushed back and swooped beneath his nearest shoulder, careful of his burns. There wasn’t going to be a good time to explain shit but the brute wasn’t going to willingly accept Nav help otherwise. She mustered as much courage as she could and slung out the bare minimum.

“Mandrelle, Noc. Noc, Mandrelle. Mandrelle’s my crew and Noc’s—ah, my uncle.”

Somehow, despite the clear pain coursing through his body, Mandrelle managed sucking in a gasp, chin rising to better take in Noc. “You’re shitting me.”

“Nope.” On her tiptoes, Paz forced him upright and moving. They were still in a Nav compound; Nav cops were _still_ there. She’d never admit it but she agreed with Noc. Leaving would be fantastic and, judging by the pile at his feet and weapons in both hands, he legitimately wanted the same.

He’d let her escape the Nav before, very clearly on purpose.

She’d also never admit that, for once and probably the only time, she was incredibly grateful for her dad’s connections no matter how they’d come to her. Trust Noc or run around the facility on their own with an injured guy who’d done the bulk of their escape?

She nodded haphazardly at the other Hylerian. “Hold Mandrelle—I’ll shoot.”

She’d rather not, honestly, but Mandrelle was huge and Noc could keep him up. And, now that she knew they were passing literal bombs what with those canisters sitting out, she had some ideas.

“You sure about that?” Noc questioned, as if he hadn’t been handing her a rifle. Once she’d drawn close enough Paz snatched two before he could rescind the offer, strapping one over her shoulder and holding the other up for use. Noc caught Mandrelle in the trade-off, the other man muttering threats under labored breath.

“You work for them,” she said simply, already lurching forward. “You might hesitate.”

She definitely wouldn't.


	71. Ch 69

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paz and crew GTFO out of there! :)

Paz hadn’t been joking. Noc barked directions and she forged a path through the facility, shooting at pretty much anything that moved. If it had a Nav uniform on it went down. Normally she cared _at least_ a little over who she took down. Harmless people, like civilians or people without weapons, she usually had a soft spot for. They weren’t actively harming others (generally) and she liked to think she wasn’t a blatant murderer.

Here, however, those altruistic ideals were gone. This was supposed to be her home, not the Nav’s. She had no desire to be here, yet she was being punished anyway. Oh, and the Nav hadn’t been very gracious hosts so there was that. Therefore, she was over it and the Nav could suck it. _All of them_.

Noc was lucky he’d found her before she accidentally blew him up, because even without a gun she would’ve found a way to do it.

Why the canisters existed she had no clue, but she’d been taking aim at them from twenty meters or so away, tearing the facility apart from the inside out while Noc and Mandrelle hobbled at a safe distance. They made a great way to clear a path wherever Noc directed her. They also indicated exactly where they were for any enemy fire, which wasn’t as great. It drew cops irritatingly close but that just made getting rid of them that much easier. If Noc was disturbed by how easy it was to mow down any obstacles she didn’t want to know.

Seriously, she was dying to pester him but now was not the time.

Under his directive she pushed through at least a dozen more halls, at least two places she’d been previously judging by their damaged, blackened panels. Apparently they’d been a lot closer to their destination than they’d realized. The card they’d swiped didn’t work at the end of a secured gate, and Paz would’ve unloaded the rest of her plasma in the door if Noc hadn’t thrown her his own clearance card. In a flash she sent them through, all three pouring into a massive hangar stuffed full of small rigs and a few token cargo ships. Even while she ran for the first one on their right she had ideas over how to destroy the whole place. It involved a lot of firepower, hence why she’d swerved right and gunned it for a stealth fighter. There was no way she could pilot it but Noc might know how. He hadn’t yelled at her to find another ship at any rate.

His card worked at the ship’s hatch, too. Paz praised their luck in nabbing him once she climbed up to the ship’s belly and pried the door open, sending down the ladder for the others before venturing inside. It was tiny as fuck—the hatch _was_ part of the cabin—but they’d make do. They needed out, not a luxurious spot to rest. Rest was for later when they’d fucked the Nav so completely the dogs wouldn’t even want to stay on Hyleris. Also, she could keep an eye on both Mandrelle and Noc in tight quarters.

Hanging out of the hatch she spied them both mere meters away, one slumped and near unconsciousness and the other scanning their surroundings like he didn’t trust the place. He’d led them here—he’d better.

“Can you fly this?” she called down in a heavy breath, pushing her abused vocal cords to carry. “Or should I find another?”

Snapping into focus he glanced her way, eyes roaming over the jet. “It’ll do. Where are we headed?”

Both of Paz’s shoulders turned in a stiff shrug. “Wherever your buddies took the rest of my crew.”

“You came with others?”

He clearly thought too highly of her if he assumed she’d managed to even _reach_ Hyleris on her own. “Did you guys pick up two chicks and a guy? They probably look super Fed-born?”

“Not here,” the other Hylerian growled. “But—there’s a facility south of here. They may have been taken there.”

“Then that’s where we’re headed,” she called back, fingers snapping at him to hurry up. “Move it, man!”

Noc started forward, slapping at Mandrelle’s face until the other man was mostly coherent. Soon as they were under the hatch Paz reached down, helping pull a groaning Mandrelle up the ladder and hauling his ass past her and near the cockpit’s cramped dash. Noc crawled up next and they uncomfortably maneuvered until the hatch was secured, he was in the pilot’s seat, and Paz busied herself with rummaging through their getaway vehicle’s short stock of supplies.

There was a spare suit, which was fantastic seeing as how only Noc currently wore one. She passed it to Mandrelle, bullying him into awkwardly stretching it over his body. In the meantime Noc was at the helm, overriding the hangar’s gate and pushing the ship’s engines into use. His movements were practiced and smooth, and Paz tried to stay out of his way but Mandrelle was a different story. If his backside wasn’t burned he’d probably be a bit more polite. He was taking too long though and too much space so, the moment Noc had the gate above them rumbling open and the jet’s engines rumbling below, she grabbed Mandrelle by the bloody collar and yanked him into the tiny hatch with her.

He _screamed_ as she zipped up the suit but she’d literally rather choke than have him more vulnerable than he already was. Once we was properly encased she forced a matching helmet on next, locking it tight with a satisfying click. Her victim might’ve been crying but at least he’d survive.

“Everything okay back there?” Noc inquired, voice booming in the tiny space. He’d obviously heard Mandrelle’s painful screech.

“Peachy,” Paz threw back, leaving Mandrelle on his knees and climbing back to her uncle. The dash sparkled with light from overhead now, and his fingers flew over several displays in a bid to get them moving. Collapsing on a crate to his right, Paz allowed herself to relax just a bit. “Any chance you’d be interested in blowing this place to pieces?”

“Working on it,” he tersely replied, too focused to even smirk. “Brace yourself. This is gonna be harsh.”

Oh, Paz had no doubt. She shut her eyes, grabbed hold of some kind of bar situated on the cockpit’s too near ceiling, and imagined Sam’s panicked face. Jets hummed, forced energy rattling the cabin. With no warning the ship pushed off, her stomach dropping along with everything else. Holding tight as she could, she put all her focus, all her senses into his being.

Sam. She’d find him soon, and then they’d figure a way out of the mess they’d created.


	72. Ch 70

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright, time to catch everyone up on everything before they leave Hyleris. Sidenote: side-chatter Mandrelle is my favorite Mandrelle ;)

They confirmed the rest of the Caishen was being held elsewhere about ten minutes after Noc blasted out the hangar, jetted around amidst a number of other rigs in the vicinity, turned their jet’s sights on the facility, and let loose a torrent of heavy, pulsing plasma. It was a glorious thing to witness, a lone facility situated on an empty stretch of tundra, practically bursting like a small sun. Having aimed for the hangar, Noc knew what he was doing in tearing such a place from existence.

This obviously attracted attention, though that was why Paz had chosen the stealth fighter. Comfortable with the controls, Noc zipped through a horde of incoming Nav vessels, screaming across Hyleris’s blurred sky in a bid to outpace anyone who gave chase. Many did. He ensured they were lost, either by force or by speed. Again, Paz thanked the universe for gifting him to her cause.

Free of followers, her uncle then scoured through Nav databases until he found the three names Paz pestered him over. Sure enough, the rest of her crew was being held in the facility he’d suspected. Without a doubt both Paz and Mandrelle begged him to head there, the latter pushing through the pain to demand he be reunited with Sentia no matter the cost.

Noc didn’t protest, pulling the jet through cloud cover at breakneck speeds with an unreadable grimace. She’d ask how he was feeling about turning on his own organization but he never gave her time once they were on their way. Oh no, all of a sudden it became an interrogation that hinged on them ending at their destination. She’d initially refused but Mandrelle, through his hissing and awful moaning, snarked at her to just answer the damned questions.

Given she owed them both, she grudgingly relented and took to guzzling all the water available on board. After finally relieving herself earlier in the designated bucket in the hatch, much to everyone’s disdain.

Noc didn’t ask questions in any order, just going for whatever came to mind.

“Are you still with Coram?”

She looked at the bracelet that’d survived thus far on her wrist. “Depending on how he feels about me in a couple days, possibly.”

“He send you down here?”

“No.” She’d already said that, hadn’t she? “I—my crew volunteered.”

“For this death trap? _Why_?”

At this point everything she’d said was incriminating. Might as well go on. “It wasn’t their intent to come down here. We were close, and we were going to use it as a scapegoat to leave.”

“That’s a horrible plan.” Noc snorted, though he didn’t appear amused, still completely focused on the dash. “How’d you—wait. Okay, _how’d_ you end up with Coram in the first place?”

“Ye, how’d that happen?” Mandrelle echoed from the hatch. Sighing, Paz leaned over herself. At least that one was pretty straight forward.

“Oh, easy. Someone in the Nav offered to buy me, he intercepted the message, and decided I needed _saving_.” Judging by the clenched jaw Noc suddenly sported she confirmed he was the one who’d made that arrangement. She huffed bitterly, head lowering. “Unless I’m reading this wrong, I can’t imagine you were trying to secure a spot for me in one of those tanks. So, anyway, that’s what happened. I got kidnapped by some douchebag who vastly overestimated my cooperation. It’s been just… _great_. But I did learn a lot.”

“Like?” He still sounded pissy. She blithely forged on.

“Like what assholes everyone is—you guys and them. Oh, and I’m partially alien. Not a particularly great thing to know, but whatever.”

“Coram tell you that?”

“Nah, a real life Hylerian. They singlehandedly destroyed two Nav fleets on Alpha.”

Noc’s skin went near colorless. “What?”

“Ye, it was fucked up, but also satisfying.”

“That— _that_ was the Hylerian?” he asked in barely a whisper, as if he wouldn’t believe it. Paz shrugged.

“I just said so.”

Noc swore under his breath, knuckles tightening on the controls. His eyes never left the dash, pushing them through a haze of flittering white and grey, the ground below obscured. Chin tilting, Paz flashed her teeth regardless if he was paying attention.

“Picked a good time to change teams if they’re still alive. Guinto was pretty pissed when I woke them up.”

“ _You woke them up_?”

Paz’s grin broadened. “Told you. I learned a lot and met a lot of people, too.”

“Who else?”

“Captain of the Jaro who, by the way, is a bitch, and a retired Hylerian captain who knew my—ugh, Vanson.”

“Rahm?”

“Ye.” And she’d flirted with the bastard, too. Out of everything that’d happened on Beta, _that’d_ been the most embarrassing part.

“Fuck!” Noc didn’t bother being quiet any longer. “He’s not retired. And Sandova? Fuck, no wonder she’s skulking around.”

“What?” Now Paz was alarmed. It figured Sandova was the _Hylerian_ in the sky. “Why?”

“Van—.” Noc stopped himself, taking a deep breath. “Your father was idolized by many people. Of course they want what’s left of him.”

Popping to her feet before she could retch, Paz paced the tiny area with both hands clutching her neck. Somehow, a slight titter escaped her mouth. “Tch, I shoved a gun in Sandova’s face. Don’t think she wants a piece of me in a good way.”

“ _What_?! Topaz, you—!”

“I know, I know!” she snapped back, throat burning. “Wasn’t trying to piss her off, okay? But I mean, fuck, I’m not into being kidnapped multiple times, ye? I don’t belong to anyone.”

From the hatch Mandrelle snickered. “Try telling that to Val.”

“Val can suck it!” Paz screamed, though it sounded more like a croaked. “She tried to sell me! I don’t care what she thinks.”

“I told her it was better to stay with me,” Noc quietly interjected, sucking the life out of their shared space. Paz whipped to him, prepared to throw all sorts of expletives his way but again, he beat her to it. “Higher ups found you on their radar. You were racking up infractions and they were going to pull you for labor.” The way he seethed ‘labor’ indicated that might not have been the case. “I intervened, said you were Vanson’s daughter. Said if…if you worked with us, for _them_ , there’d be no worse blow. The fucking Messiah’s kid aiding the enemy? It’d kill Hylerians. But…it’d keep you alive. Safe.”

“You’re Vanson’s daughter?” Mandrelle gasped, near choking. “ _Fuck_.”

Knees buckling, Paz dropped to her ass before it couldn’t be helped. She agreed with Mandrelle’s sentiment, but voicing so wasn’t an option, not when it felt like she’d been kicked in the chest.

“How’d you…how’d you know it was me?” she finally inquired, drawing both wobbly knees to her chest.

“I only knew it was you when I saw our internal reports. They didn’t even know you were Hylerian but I knew they’d figure it out. So, I…pushed things into motion. Rather have you alive and safe than working in some mine, just like him. Or worse. I’m sorry, Topaz.”

Forgiveness wasn’t on the table, not now or ever, not for that. Dropping her head between her knees, Paz tried holding it together. She had to. She might hate Noc but he was the one saving their asses at the moment. This was a lot of information to digest.

At least Mandrelle found it enlightening, a fist banging from the back. “Explains why you’re a psycho, doesn’t it?”

Bristling, Paz hunched deeper into herself. “Fuck off. Why’re you here anyway? Why’s Val up above?” A thought occurred that made her bristle even more. “Why the fuck is everyone so obsessed with me?”

“Val thought the others were going to cheat her out of her cut,” Mandrelle softly answered, ignoring her last question. “And then when Fiala’s credits never recovered she thought you took them which further pissed her off.”

“Wait, what?” Paz’s head shot up, brow scrunched. _Why_ did Fiala keep coming up? “I never—I have no fucking clue what happened to her credits. Why would she think _I_ took them?”

“You killed Fiala,” he simply iterated, like that explained everything. “She used to love Fiala—they worked on the same ships for years before you were around. She figured you went after Fiala for the credits.”

Squinting at the ground, Paz made her brain work overtime. There were a lot of things going on but she…no, she clearly remembered what Val wanted her to do.

“She _told_ me to kill Fiala. That’s what I did.”

“But the credits never came back to her. Understand?”

_Oh_. Val thought she’d concocted this whole mess, but for what? For credits? Had she ever expressed that kind of greed in her life? For other things, obviously, but not…not credits.

“So she’s here because she wants her credits,” she coldly murmured, rubbing a shaky, dirty palm over tired eyes. “And everyone else—Sentia, Lon, and Sam—they’re just fucking pawns in _my_ grand scheme?” The idea made her smirk unkindly. “Fuuuuuuuck.”

Credits always got in the way.


	73. Ch 71

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, down to the bottom of the Grand Canyon--I mean, chasm--we go!

Coram hadn’t been lying about that ‘chasm’ place, which happened to be where they were headed. It was huge, stretching farther than the eye could see, even in blizzard conditions. Either the earth itself had cracked open at some point, exposing layers upon layers of matte red rock that clashed sharply with the surrounding snow, or something else Paz couldn’t entirely wrap her head around. Each side gaped at least a dozen kilometers from one another at its widest, while at times it seemed to nearly kiss. As they touched down nearby, she imagined it was like some kind of scar from a battle no one remembered

That was more interesting than Noc calmly explaining it was actually a natural geographic feature that’d developed over thousands of millennia from water cutting away at bed rock. Not as exciting as what she’d made up.

Noc was trying his best to aid her in whatever way he could, she understood that. She’d moped near him for the entire flight, barely listening as he stressed how he’d never meant to see her harmed or meet other Hylerians, particularly the ones she’d already named. His intent had been to put her in a position she couldn’t be touched, though she had doubts that would’ve worked. He could’ve bought her and had her work for the Nav but honestly, with her track record? She’d fuck that up _easily_. Someone would eventually snip at her, she’d snap and do something to piss them off, and that’d be the end of that. She’d have known what a tank was like, intimately, in record time.

Perhaps Coram had helped her in a rather stupid, roundabout way. He had intended she never meet other Hylerians, either, not until there was no other option. His attempts still sucked, but at least she hadn’t been practically served to the Nav on a platter.

But she understood Noc’s position, too. Unfortunately. He thought she was part of Vanson and, if they were really brothers, then of course he felt some kind of responsibility for her. Didn’t mean it was warranted, but she felt similar with Sam. He was hers and vice versa. It made her stomach churn sickly, just hoping he was okay in whatever goddamned facility the Nav put him in, because that’s exactly what’d happened.

How they’d been separated she had no clue. It seemed intentional yet Noc hadn’t given an answer for that. He’d also conveniently refrained from explaining to her _why_ there were multiple facilities down here in the first place. Hyleris was not a viable place. Normal people couldn’t survive here without aid which wasn’t necessarily a death sentence (plenty of colonies lacked sufficient oxygen, temperatures weren’t suitable, the atmosphere contained too much nitrogen, etc.) but it was still a risk factor. Beyond that, there were no resources. Unless one counted potentially contaminated water in the form of ice. There was plenty of that.

In between her sulking she did find a med kit, one that was split up between her and Mandrelle. He received most of the sani-gel to patch up his backside and she scrounged out a couple painkillers and anti-inflammatories. It sort of helped with her throat and the numerous bruisings she’d received from Warren.

Oh ye, Noc knew the guy who’d interrogated her. He was apparently a pretty decent guy compared to others. Knowing that, Paz sincerely hoped he and everyone else in that goddamned facility had died a fiery, agonizing death. If Warren was ‘decent’ then she could only imagine she’d done everyone a favor wrecking havoc on the Nav.

Unfortunately, Warren had survived according to Noc’s internal reports, because _of course_ he did. He was likely scouring Hyleris looking for them or up above in the ensuing battle, but it was already assumed, at least to Paz, there’d be a rematch. She’d fuck him up extra hard when it came down to it. Also, the guy who’d cuffed her. Anyone in Nav uniform was a target at this point—anyone, even cleaning staff if they had it. Anyone who helped the Nav was the enemy and it wouldn’t have been like this if her crew would’ve just kept under the radar. Alas, here she was, being run to a new villainous Nav facility to break her crew out of prison. Fun times.

At any rate, by the time Noc found a suitable spot close to the chasm to land, she was itching to spill blood and reunite with her people. She’d sent a few more pings to Desh indicating she was safe and on the move. She’d still failed him, apologizing for that several times, but she figured he’d want to know if she was alive or spilling Lakai secrets. She wasn’t, obviously. What they did was their own business. She had bigger bitches to figure out, like what she was going to do with Noc after this bullshit.

And Val. Fuck, she didn’t even want to deal with Val. It made her feel like trash, like their entire relationship meant nothing. But, if Val was pissed about credits then she probably wouldn’t go away until that was resolved. Paz had no idea how to fix it.

The second the jet touched down she shoved those worries aside to focus entirely on the vague plan they’d come up with on their trip. Mandrelle was safe in a suit so he’d lead, Noc would trail and bark directions while they climbed down into the chasm from a nearby route he’d already found, and she would follow with a rifle. Through sheer luck she’d found another suit jammed in a cabinet but it was tight and she couldn’t even zip it up. Still, she had some protection. She and Noc had no helmets, which sucked, but they’d survive. Hopefully.

Once they were on the canyon’s floor they’d trek north for a couple kilometers and scout out the next facility. Once Paz had an idea of where the rest of the crew was, Mandrelle would make a distraction, Noc would override any securities, and she’d slip in. If everything went well they’d have everyone back fairly easily. Paz wasn’t counting on it but she had competent teammates at the moment; there was a good chance they could pull it off.

She didn’t think as much once the hatch swung open and the bitter, awful cold slammed into her at full force. Dropping into knee deep snow with the others, she was immediately cursing and wishing she’d torn a helmet off literally anyone back at the last facility. Her _bones_ were chattering, the frigid wind blasting into her like it wanted to rip her off her feet.

At least she wasn’t the only one suffering. Clasping her by the shoulder, Noc squinted at her in assurance before they followed Mandrelle’s hulking figure toward the edge of the obscured, bleak, jagged chasm. He didn’t look too thrilled, either, though his steps were determined, quickly making a path she could wade through.

Already frozen hands clutching the rifle tight, Paz shadowed her uncle, angrily glaring at the snowstorm behind them every few steps just in case. There was no way anyone was sneaking up on them, even out here.

X

Shockingly, the descent to the chasm floor wasn’t bad. Cold, mostly, but it somehow grew warmer the further down the sloping switchbacks they went. At times the trail was difficult to traverse, and Paz slipped more than once closer to the top. She wasn’t alone. Mandrelle’s curses echoed along the cliffs when he slammed flat on his back while twisting around a delicate curve. She skirted around Noc to help him up, paranoid everything would go to hell if the headhunter was indisposed.

The trail continued climbing down, past precarious ledges and loose rocks mingling with slush. The canyon itself was deathly silent, like being below Hyleris’s surface put a damper on the storm and battle raging above.

At any other time it’d be beautiful and fun to explore but not today, not when they were losing daylight and they hadn’t even hit the canyon floor yet. Honestly Paz wasn’t sure how much longer she could go on without sleep, or at the very least, rest. Her giant companions didn’t make her feel any better. Noc seemed indestructible and Mandrelle, even with his burns, had more pep in his step than her. Right now, remembering Sam and the possible chance of revenge should Warren grace this next facility, were all she had to go on.

When they did touch the ground it was like they’d walked to another world. Noc coerced Paz into resting for a second, providing them with just enough time to grow used to the dark shadows encircling their muddy, makeshift camp. Dead silence reigned. Unless they wanted to climb back out, they were stuck down here. Well, until they reached their destination. Noc assured the others there were rigs they could steal, ones that’d whisk them deeper into the canyon where it was easier to clamor out. How they were going to _leave_ Hyleris was still a mystery, but once they had Sentia they’d obviously figure something out.

There had to be a ship _somewhere_ on Hyleris they could steal with ease.

Antsy, Paz cut their break short and they tromped on, delving into the chasm’s shadows, the quiet growing more cloying by the minute.


	74. Ch 72

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Commence Operation Bail Out The Rest of The Caishen/Osiris Crew! Noc and Paz are a lot more alike than she thinks in terms of aiding and abetting, but well, we'll let her pretend otherwise ;) At least she's not as much like Vanson? Yet? Who knows, we'll see!

The Nav had made themselves extremely comfortable on Hyleris. Too comfortable in Paz’s opinion, but whatever. She was already thinking up ways to topple an entire cliffside over the lengthy, Nav-styled compound lining its base. Four buildings were situated at the bottom from what she could see in early morning light, and a few more posts had been tacked into the cliff itself at higher points, each one posing as a lookout. She glared at each and every structure from the dead shrub she’d taken refuge behind, searching for weaknesses. Given they were across the canyon floor on a small mound this was a difficult task, but they couldn’t get much closer without being seen.

Crouched next to her, Mandrelle said as much. “No way we’re gonna sneak in, not when they’re in that position.”

AKA, the Nav being backed into the cliff with no way for anyone to surprise them. Most plans they’d had previously were ruined the second they’d seen the base’s situation.

“We don’t need to sneak in,” Paz huffed back, exhaustion keeping her from quickly coming up with a good plan because honestly, sneaking in was exactly what she had in mind. “Not really. All we need is a good distraction. I’ll do the rest.”

“You can’t run in there alone,” Noc started, Mandrelle cutting him off with a snort.

“Uh, don’t know how much you know about your niece but if she says she’ll do something, she’ll do it.”

The older Hylerian shoved back on the cold mound, awkwardly rubbing his neck while he made a face. “Ye, but this is different.”

“Appreciate the worry but she’s capable,” Mandrelle went on, providing a decent distraction so Paz wouldn’t have to argue. “This’ll be a piece of cake.”

“And I’m sober,” Paz added, smirking tiredly. “Things can only go up from here.”

There was a long beat of silence in their group. Noc finally shifted, incredibly uncomfortable. “Do I want to know?”

“No,” both Paz and Mandrelle replied, their combined snickering a little too loud. She continued, knees moving as an idea came to her. “Don’t worry, Noc. I’m like a cockroach. You’ll see. Now, see that structure on the left? If I swing around and work through that little forest I think I can enter from there. Mandrelle, you’re gonna need to push head on. Oh— _or_ start blasting the adjacent cliff. Anything to keep their eyes off entries.”

“Eyes off you,” Mandrelle confirmed, stroking the rifle he’d been gifted. “Got it.”

Pausing, Paz glanced over her shoulder at Noc. “You’re gonna come with me, but we’ll split up. You look for our getaway rover and keep us safe—I’ll grab my crew. We’ll meet at the other end of the compound. Mandrelle will have disappeared by then and we’ll meet up with him wherever he deems it safe.”

“And how will we know where to go?” Noc wondered, anxiety having left his tone. He seemed more comfortable now that he’d been included. With barely working comms, any chance they had of successfully pinging one another was low, so it was best they planned ahead. Pursing chapped lips, Paz thought about it, gaze darting across the canyon and to their right. The chasm’s walls were jagged there, leaving plenty of spots to hide, but they’d need to go deeper. Preferably as far as Mandrelle could get on foot.

“Hug the walls,” she instructed, jabbing a thumb in that direction. “I’ll find him.”

“What if you don’t make it out?”

She tried and failed not to roll her eyes, shoulders hunching in annoyance. “Dude. If I don’t make it out then neither will you.”

“You’re much more arrogant than I realized,” Noc grumbled, though he didn’t press the issue. Paz grinned, well aware of that. She was too tired to brag though, and even if she did he’d bring up the bit about her floundering at the last facility so she kept any opinions to herself.

“How long can you keep them occupied?” she asked Mandrelle instead, the brute modestly raising one shoulder.

“Long as you need, kid. Be careful, and watch for traps. Nav gets boners over those.”

Even as Noc laughed under his breath over the bold truth, Paz was already moving. They had their plan; there was no more time to waste. She dropped down behind the mound, keeping low to the wet earth while hurrying across the canyon’s floor in a wide half-circle. Noc followed several meters behind, leaving Mandrelle to determine what might constitute as a great distraction. He’d figure it out; he always did.

The two Hylerians skulked across the canyon, careful of any patrols. There were none, none in their way at any rate, and they reached the other side fairly quickly, hugging the rough wall and keeping to sparse shadows. Neither really spoke as there was no need to, not until they approached the smaller building that sat at the end of the compound.

It had a secured door accompanied by Nav sentries, which was no surprise. They stood around shooting the breeze while she and Noc hid behind a crumbling boulder, biding their time until Mandrelle executed his distraction.

“How long have you known this guy?” Noc quietly inquired, doing his best to make the question sound innocent and not at all concerned. Still focused on the sentries, Paz bit her chapped lip before she smiled like an idiot. Annoying as Noc was, it was somehow nice to know someone cared.

“Pretty much all my life,” she whispered, eyes looking over the structure’s roof. She’d hop from building to building if it weren’t for the posts high above. “Long as he gets what he wants, he’s the best crew mate you can find.”

“Mm.” Noc didn’t sound convinced but that wasn’t Paz’s problem. Besides, when a heavy boom echoed across the chasm, she knew Mandrelle had found something good to work with.

And the second those sentries scrambled back inside she launched for the door, Noc hot on her heels, the two eating up the distance before the entrance slid shut. The sentries hadn’t gone far, unfortunately, but Paz and Noc each took one and threw them to the ground, knocking them out before they had a chance to ping out a warning. Ruthless, Paz would’ve snapped her victim’s neck, but they had more important things to do. Thus, she exited the tiny antechamber with Noc and they pushed into the building’d main space, a security center.

Jackpot.

Noc slid into a chair amidst dozens of monitors, instantly bypassing a handful of security measures. This left Paz to tackle the lone guard in the room. Slamming him to the ground without mercy. They didn’t get a choice like the first two—this one had a bullet through their helmet the moment they hit the floor. If Noc was surprised she didn’t care. She’d forgotten about her sliding-scale morals hours ago, her crew taking priority.

Hustling to the next connecting door she kept watch, that lethal calm she’d been waiting for beginning to kick in. Somewhere behind her pounding blood her senses reared, intent on feeling for the familiarity of her crew. They had to be here, _had_ to. If they weren’t, she’d tear apart the entire planet looking for them. Maybe even head up to the heavens and wreck havoc there, though it seemed fairly calm up there today. Either that or this side of Hyleris wasn’t seeing much of the fight.

Regardless, she wasn’t leaving without her crew, and Noc got her hopes up when he whistled for her attention, facility stats showing up across the monitors. Sam, Sentia and Lonyn were holed up within their tiny prison, a secured box two buildings away. It wasn’t secure a moment later, Noc shutting down the facility’s protocols and opening it up as much as he saw fit. He softly explained some bits while he went, reporting that an electric fence had been set up outside any exit they didn't plan on using, the posts situated on the wall had gone dark, and he’d locked several armories within the compound just because they didn’t need more shit to worry about. Stats showed the compound currently employed eighty or so Nav officers of varying rank, which wasn’t much, but still a formidable number to go up against.

They needed to scatter, and judging by what Noc was pulling up, they were. Good. She’d sneak where she could, grab the others, then get the hell out. Until he was finished she’d hold her position, aware Noc needed to push through first. He’d clear a path if need be and if all else failed he could double back. She didn’t expect he would but it was nice knowing he was trying. A little late, but still.

Eyes on his back, a moment’s curiosity made her ask, “Hey Noc, how come Vanson never came to collect?”

Her uncle grew stiff in the chair for all of a second before continuing his destruction of the compound’s inner workings. It was nearly complete, judging by the last live stats.

“Because,” he bitterly ground out, words failing to follow for some time. When he did answer he was finished, shoving back from the monitors and stalking in her direction. “A nomad distributor was a better option than what he could provide you with.”

He must’ve understood why she was frowning because he added, “You’ve seen the vids. Everyone has. Your father didn’t earn idoltry from the others by doing nothing. We helped him, too. Nav, fed, civilian…it never mattered to him. All he cared about was raising the body count.”

Well, damn. Unable to breathe without looking like a pussy, Paz sucked on her cheeks and looked away to the floor. The way Noc said it confirmed her own suspicions. She wanted nothing to do with someone like Vanson, like—

Like Coram. Though, she’d never personally seen him harm anyone. A strange thing given all she knew about him which, granted, wasn’t much, but she knew he took credit for the dozens of Nav ships that’d been wrecked in the past couple years. At this rate she felt like _she’d_ proven herself more of a freedom fighting bullshitter than he had.

Okay, not a good thing, but she’d think about that later.

And also, Coram was the one who’d dragged her into this, so this was all his fault.

Stepping into her line of vision, Noc fixed her with a steeled grimace. “He wasn’t all there, Topaz, not at the end. Things happened and he…ah, it’s best you were elsewhere.”

Sighing, Paz sidled off the door, fidgeting with her rifle. “Great. Exactly as fucked as I imagined.”

“Worse,” he corrected, shuddering. He pushed on the door, stepping into a dark hall connecting buildings. “Let’s go.”

She followed without another word, even her snark failing. Together they jumped into the next building, a much larger structure with several floors and winding corridors but nothing either wanted. Noc went ahead once they reached the other end of the eerily quiet building (no alarms this time), wishing her luck before slipping ahead and out of sight. Paz watched him go, her calm draining with his lack of presence. She shouldn’t have asked him about Vanson, because now she couldn’t concentrate. Damnit.

Disappearing down the hall he’d traipsed up, she forced herself to take a deep breath and focus. The others were here, and she had a rifle. Wherever they were, whoever guarded them, she’d fix this. She _would_. She just…needed to find them first, her senses stretching out across the building in vain.

_Come on, come on_ …

There. A vague feeling of Sam’s warmth pulsed around her. He was close and—oh, surrounded by more than a few people. Fuck. Taking that into consideration, Paz skulked down the hall, expecting trouble. It arrived in the form of several guards who caught her peeking around a corner, bullets screaming her way before they could even properly identify her. Given how trigger happy they were she was sure she’d found the final barrier to her goal.

Good.

The first lull in fire had her wrenching around the corner, only too happy to demonstrate to the Nav how their own tech worked. Plasma pinged through the air, accompanied by several screams, and then the hall was silent. Rushing forth, Paz jumped over downed officers and halted in front of a heavy door. At its base lay two of the sentries, both bleeding out. They’d been holding it shut judging by the door’s loose partition—someone was trying to get out, obviously, but they’d stepped away during the shootout. She wasted no time elbowing it open, peering in to a darkened room without hesitation. That familiar presence was too close to take any precautions.

“Sam?”

A heavy body crashed into her hardly a moment after she’d spoken his name. Drawing her close, Sam offered a hug that couldn’t be rivaled and groaned in relief.

“How the fuck are you alive?” he exclaimed, both of them clattering to a halt against the nearest wall. It was a miracle they hadn’t tripped over the bodies. “I was—I _saw_ you launch mid-air!”

Oh, that sounded terrifying. Honestly, Paz was happy she hadn’t been conscious for that. Instead, she was more occupied with running her hands up and over Sam’s skin and clothes. Bruised and battered he was, but still whole. When their eyes met she grinned in disbelief.

“You were ripped from me! I thought _you’d_ died! But then I woke up in the snow and figured if I made it, you must’ve, and—.” She gasped, head darting to look around him. “Lon? Sentia?”

“Alive,” their pilot groused, stepping out into the hall next, stretching tiredly. Her gaze automatically drew to the floor, lip curling in disdain. “Ugh, gross.”

“Seems like we all made it,” Sentia added, appearing at Lonyn’s side. They both also looked worse for wear but again, still alive. That was all that mattered. Relaxing against the wall, Paz let Sam hold her up with his hips alone. His head was between her neck and shoulder, nosing the slight bit of skin her suit hadn’t covered. Speaking of suits—

Pushing him back a bit, she took a good look at him and the others. Her eyes went wide, unsure if she was more pissed or surprised.

“Where’re your guys’ suits?”

At least Lonyn was rolling with the punches, sighing as she picked over the guard nearest her feet. “On these guys, I guess.”

Morbid. While Paz winced with a slight amount of regret, Sam gathered her hands in his.

“They stripped us of anything protective,” he gently explained. “Some asshole rounded us up and that was the first thing they did once we were cuffed.” He smirked, gaze holding on her bracelet. “Well, cuffed _again_.”

She let him squeeze her tense hands and wrists, only slightly relieved as she thought she’d be. Glancing around again, she remembered their mission and huffed. “We’re leaving, ye? Follow me. We’ll meet up with Noc outside, but we’ve got to get you some suits first— _not_ these.”

“Noc?” Sam spat, his entire body stiffening next to her. “Isn’t that—?”

“Yep,” she grunted, moving right along. Her teeth flashed at Sentia. “Oh, and Mandrelle joined the party.”

“ _What_?!” Sentia’s knees near buckled, her shocked eyes carefully searching Paz. “He—he’s here?”

“He is,” Paz nodded back. “And super eager to see you, so let’s go.”

“But he’s with Val,” Lonyn cut in, frowning. She’d already skinned the suit off the downed guard, ignoring Paz’s suggestion. It wasn’t like it’d been ruined so she had no qualms about donning it. “He wants our heads, ye?”

Paz squinted mischievously. “Mm, I think he wants between Sentia’s legs more.”

If the lighting was better she’d enjoy Sentia’s searing blush and more, but Paz wasn’t complaining. Instead, she held onto Sam tight and guided him toward the end of the hall. “Come on. Let’s find better protection.”

They did just that, hunting in a pack through the building until they found and downed enough Nav sentries to keep them all protected. Paz even upgraded her own ill-fitting suit while she caught the others up to speed. Knowing who was an enemy and who wasn’t was incredibly important at the moment, especially as they jaunted from that building to the next, hiding in the shadows where they could. Lonyn and Sentia in particular were surprised Val was even in orbit, but if Mandrelle was here then it couldn’t be denied. They’d have to watch for her if they ever got off the ground, which…was still going to be tricky.

But, Sentia did idly point out once they’d cleared another hall and donned helmets, both the techy and pilot having armed themselves while Sam kept watch as well, that Balain was likely nearby if they were in the correct chasm. If that was the case, why not head there and see what else they might be able to commandeer from the Nav? Maybe they had bigger ships. Unlikely given the position, but if it’d prevent her from having to return to this godsforsaken place again then Paz was interested. She did not want to come back once they left.

Thus, by the time they burst out of the compound’s other side, armed and properly suited up and working as a cohesive team, things were looking promising. Noc wasn’t waiting for them, not that Paz could see anyway. Cautiously waving the others toward a cluster of large rocks nestled along the cliffside, she scanned the perimeter for any signs of him. He was still breathing, still nearby, she could feel that in her bones. She just didn’t know…where.

Given they’d cleared the final building, she barked at the others to stay put (and they listened for once) before dipping back inside, breath heavy in her newly acquired helmet. He’d been close while she and the others worked through the compound, and even as she wound through this last building she was certain they’d reached the end of the line before him.

She climbed to the second level, a place their group hadn’t ventured, but it was quiet. One guard lay on the ground in the middle of a hall. Pausing over him, Paz glanced into the nearest door on her right. To her relief there sat Noc at a display terminal, his fingers anxiously tapping at the controls. He was searching for something judging by the flashing monitors in front of him.

“Almost done,” he absently informed her without even turning. “Just grabbing some things before they catch on. Your captain will find some of it useful.”

“He’s not my captain,” Paz stressed with a grimace, guarding the doorframe like previously. “I got my crew now. You know where they might hiding any rovers?”

Behind her he grunted thoughtfully. “Ye. Should be a shack a hundred meters out. Security’s already disabled.” He paused, then asked, “Thought we were looking for a ship?”

“Rover,” she repeated, one shoulder heavy on the frame. “Balain. Is it close?”

The chair he’d occupied squeaked as he pushed back and rose. “You’re kidding—don’t go there, Topaz. Now is not the time to keep stabbing st the Nav.”

Which meant Balain was definitely close and definitely had some good shit to grab.

“I’m not stabbing,” she innocently retorted, sliding into the hall once he’d joined her. “I have something to collect, and I figure the Nav’s got more ships and shit there, correct? So, in an effort to not backtrack in the future, we’re going. Now.”

He might’ve hissed in annoyance, but Noc didn’t argue. Instead, he hauled ass with her down to ground level and back outside. They only stopped once to pick up a helmet for him, but they were out in a flash and racing over to the rock pile where Lonyn’s procured rifle stuck out like a scope.

Sliding into their little hideout, Paz quickly worked her attention over Sam before the others. They appeared just as she’d left them. Great.

“Rovers are a hundred meters out in a shack,” she informed the team, eyes turning to the sky to ensure they were still alone out here. “Who wants to drive?”

“I’ll do it,” Lonyn immediately spat, her glare focusing on Noc. As pissy as she looked she still wore an acidic smirk. He frowned for perhaps half a second before some sort of recognition dawned on him.

“You left for Val’s crew?”

Their pilot snorted. “Tch. I didn’t _leave_ for anyone’s crew, thank you very much. I decided it was time to go.”

Shrugging, Noc accepted that. He apparently knew she’d deserted so that was one less intro Paz needed to make. She did the honors in a hurry, pointing in quick succession.

“Sam, Sentia—this is Noc. Noc—my crew. We’re all friends today, ye?”

“Sure,” Lonyn blandly supplied, peering around the rocks and spying a large industrial shack to their left. It was out in the open so they’d need to be fast. She zipped off before she could be stopped, the minor weightlessness aiding her in her jaunt. All four watched from their spot, only slightly certain she’d get shot down. Nothing happened though, not even when their pilot used her rifle to blast open the building’s reinforced door. Three or four nail-biting minutes later, a rover’s engine rumbled across the canyon floor, followed by a more polished vehicle streaking from cover and careening in their direction.

_Now_ shots rang out, followed by an irritating alarm from above. The compound itself was quiet, meaning someone in one of those posts above had seen her flight. Honestly, not the worst that could’ve happened.

Wasting no time, Lonyn didn’t bother halting or getting close. Instead she began a slow crawl along the edge, bidding the others to hustle and follow. Launching from the rocks, they did exactly that, piling into the rig as soon as the backdoor popped open. It was roomier than the stealth jet, and once Noc secured the door it flew alongside the cliff.

“You fucker,” Lonyn affectionately scoffed hardly a couple minutes into their escape, slowing down to a loose roll. Up ahead, Mandrelle was barely hidden behind a dead tree. He kept his position for a brief moment, darting to the rover only when Lonyn hit its horn. Noc started to shove the door open once more but Sentia beat him to it, pushing past and swinging the hatch wide open. She leaned out as if their safety didn’t matter, calling to him.

“Get your ass in here!”

Mandrelle did as she demanded, rounding the rover and practically jumping in through the back, right into Sentia’s waiting embrace. It was awkward as hell, but at least he’d made it. Paz beamed while she and Noc reached up to re-secure the door. She was damn proud of herself for gathering the whole crew, minus Val.

Strong arms around her waist, Sam pulling her between his legs and a couple spare crates in the back. The rover rumbled beneath them, heavy-duty wheels propelling them away and down the canyon presumably for Balain. His helmet knocked against hers, both of them relaxing in relief.

“You’re pretty great, you know that?” he remarked, squeezing her tight. Paz flashed her teeth before refocusing on the closest, reinforced window.

“Feel free to tell me that whenever you’d like.”


	75. Ch 73

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow, Sam and Sentia have been doing a /lot/ of talking behind Paz and Lon's back to get their own plans together. Hmmm....

Sam didn’t find Paz nearly as great when she and Noc detailed destroying an entire Nav compound. Sentia, currently wrapped up in Mandrelle, and even Lonyn were both impressed, but Sam withdrew from Paz’s body and barely paid attention to everything she’d gone through to retrieve him. He never said anything, leading her to believe he was irritated by something, but given they had a ways to go through the winding canyon and a lot of shit to put everyone on the same page about, she let it slide. There’d be time to talk about their feelings later.

She did appreciate his wariness regarding Noc. The only reason anyone in the rover trusted him was because of her, and she only trusted him because of his actions, not his relation.

Instead, she memorized the dips of Sam’s muscles beneath his neck and the messy puff of hair he sported once he’d removed his helmet. They should’ve kept their things on but Noc stressed it would be a ways until they hit Balain. If no one was trailing them (they weren’t) and no one was following via the sky (didn’t look like it) then there likely wasn’t any immediate danger. Therefore, they’d all dressed down. There was a lot to discuss, meaning most of the ride was filled with run-on sentences and rude, yet deserving, comments.

Much as Mandrelle held onto Sentia like a lost lifeline, he still found their exit from Osiris stupid. He would’ve come up with a better plan, apparently, if he’d known what was going on. Lonyn hadn’t exactly explained when she threw him to the ground in the Osiris’s ship bay. He also found Paz’s antics ridiculous because, of course, they were. Still, he was mighty impressed they’d all managed gravitating back to one another. His own version of events was a bit more sobering, however, and even after the others filled him in it took him some time before he started. Like Noc, he wasn’t keen on dissecting the past. Doing so was the only was Paz could fit some missing pieces together though, so she prodded until he’d had enough of her taunting.

They were almost to Balain according to Noc when Mandrelle pulled Sentia closer to his chest and growled, “Alright, alright. You want to know everything? Here. Here’s what happened soon as you all abandoned us. Look, it wasn’t easy holding shit together once everyone left. Lonyn kicked my ass—” Up front their pilot snorted in answer “—and Val was even less understanding. She thought everyone was in on something she hadn’t seen, a mutiny if you will, so she was pissy as could be. Fuck, she interrogated me like my answers would change or maybe someone would reach out, but none of you ever did. Probably a smart idea, honestly. Then we got this bullshit call from Fiala and Val took off. Seriously, it was like she’d gone psycho because we didn’t stop for shit until we hit Hiduron.”

Pausing, he nodded at a cringing Paz. “You were already gone, but it was chaos. She cleaned everything up—every brain splatter and door you broke. It was disgusting.”

“Ye, well, it wasn’t that great of a trip,” Paz mumbled, self-consciously rubbing at her neck where a slight, scarred burn still lay. “Fiala was kind of—.” Another thought crowded her direction. “Yah, did Fiala ever sell huasca to Val?”

Distracted, Mandrelle shook his head. “Nah. She asked—multiple times—but Val never went for it. Only people in Andromeda who buy that shit are Triads and…” Trailing off, he twisted to smirk at her and Noc. “Your kind.”

And ‘her kind’ was busy using huasca as an agent to distribute absom, at least the Lakai was. She’d yet to hear about or see it in action…beyond the stupid moment Sam had thought to try utilizing it. Fuck, they weren’t going to be welcome back on the Lakai even if they stole a ship, destroyed the Nav’s entire presence on Hyleris, and maybe took out a couple cruisers up top while they were at it.

Again, _how_ absom and Fiala and the Lakai fit together she’d figure out when she had more time, but things _were_ beginning to fit.

“Funny,” she snarked, eyes going narrow. “So, you cleaned house. Then what?”

Leaning back against the rover wall, calmly stroking Sentia’s hair with one hand, Mandrelle uttered a heavy sigh. Whatever trace of mischief he’d had was now gone. “She figured out who you were with. Nearly had an aneurysm when she did, too, and she would’ve hauled ass right after if she’d been able to track you down.” Affectionately squeezing one of his large forearms, Sentia made him smile just a bit before he continued. “Too bad she didn’t have Sentia. Anyway, we floated around, waiting for the Lakai to show up. Lo and behold it didn’t, but _you_ did, at Centurion Beta. Sale’s off, if you were wondering. Nav’s pretty pissed with you.”

“It’s not like we did that much,” Paz grumbled, hunching into herself. The space between her and Sam felt even more pronounced now.

“Tch, how about Alpha?”

“Not my fault and I didn’t do anything out of my norm there, either.”

“So two fleets destroyed—”

“Can we move on?” Both hands were over her eyes now. “Please?”

“Oh, you don’t want to brag about your trail of death and destruction?” he teased, which earned him a swift kick in the shin.

“No, asshole.” Paz growled back, cautiously glancing over to Sam. He appeared so indifferent, his own eyes glued to the whizzing terrain outside. She knew him well enough to know something hadn’t settled well, and she had an idea what it was. Mandrelle’s details weren’t helping. “Ugh—just _finish_.”

“Fine, fine,” he snickered. “Val got in contact with the Nav, they figured you’d show up here at some point, so we headed over. We didn’t expect to be skirting whatever the fuck is going on up there, so that’s why she sent me down. Figured we’d split up our chances of catching you, only I got fucking caught. So…you know, things could be better.”

“Why don’t you want to capture them now?” Noc inquired, having been quiet for the most part. Guarding the hatch with his own large body, he looked a little pissed now. “What changed?”

Mandrelle fixed his attention on the Hylerian, bluntly adding, “You ever spend a couple months practically locked in a small space with a psycho? _That’s_ what changed.” His grip on Sentia tightened, somehow bringing her closer. “Fuck Val. She didn’t bust me out. She didn’t do shit for me. I want _my_ crew, not a paranoid captain with a grudge.”

“Ah.” Noc didn’t seem convinced but he politely played along. “And who’s captain of this fine crew then?”

For a moment the rig was quiet save for the rumbling beneath them. All three women grinned broadly, Sentia proudly jutting her chin across the way at the others.

“Sam Lonergan captains the Caishen.”

Groaning, Mandrelle banged his head back. He clearly wasn’t as enthused. “Chemist to captain? Pretty big promotion, boy.”

Beside Paz, Sam sat up straight and puffed out his chest. “Say what you want, man. We found the Lakai _and_ made it here, safe from those fuckers, so I think it’s worked out pretty well.”

He was clearly skimming over the bad shit, but no one bothered to correct him. Thinking she could get back on his good side, Paz brushed her elbow against his and nodded in confirmation. “Captain Sam Lonergan. I like the sound of that, and it’s more than deserved.”

“Why not Lon?” Mandrelle complained, earning several laughs from the rest of the crew and even Lonyn herself.

“You’d leave first chance you got if I was captain,” their pilot explained, still snickering under her breath. “Sam’s normal. He _knows_ people. A much better choice than any of us.”

“Much better,” Paz seconded, but Sam didn’t bother looking to her. Instead he kept his chin high, staring Mandrelle down.

“Caishen’s not going to be like the Osiris,” he started, looking every bit the determined captain who would soon run a successful ship and crew. “We’ll make large profits and keep far, _far_ from the Nav. In a couple years we’ll be running alongside some of the biggest crews in Andromeda, Mandrelle. You’ll see.”

The other man rolled his eyes before pursing his lips. “Ye? And how’ll you do that?”

Without skipping a beat, Sam proudly proclaimed, “Absom. You ever heard of it?” Judging by Mandrelle’s suddenly tight face he did, so Sam continued. “Nav will never touch us—they won’t be able to. Triad’s will be clamoring for what we’ll be selling, and the credits will roll in.”

The entire rover went silent once more. Paz, for one, hadn’t thought their little crew was about to ruin Andromeda with a lethal substance that had no business being used. He hadn’t even liked this shit when he’d first heard about it! When had that changed? What about looting the galaxy blind? What had happened to that plan? She’d _liked_ that plan.

“That shit kills almost instantaneously,” Noc stoically interrupted, staring daggers at Sam. “You sure you want to be putting it out there for just anyone to grab?”

“Here’s the thing,” Sam replied, again without any kind of pause or thought. “Lakai’s been making it, and they’re probably already selling it to other crews. We get in on this now and we’ll become heavy players in the market. What we put out will be better than anything the Lakai could make, anyway.”

Noc, unfortunately, took the bait. “And why’s that?”

Sam’s teeth glinted. “Because we won’t be selling absom. We’ll be selling the antidote to offset any effects due to handling.”

“There’s an antidote?” Paz gasped, eyes growing wide once more. She hadn’t known there was a fix for absom poisoning. Feeling more than a little light-headed, she glancing from him to Sentia, who looked about as pleased as could be. “How?”

“Sam had me look into it,” she explained, casually examining her nails. “Together, we’ve been experimenting with a substance that doctor had in her lab. Turns out it negates the worst effects of absom. Once we’re able to replicate it in large enough quantities we’ll have ourselves a lucrative business.”

That they would, but at what cost? And when the fuck had Sam decided to get into the poisoning business, even if he wasn’t planning on selling absom? Developing lotus was one thing, but getting into this? This was an entirely different game—they effectively _approved_ the use of absom throughout Andromeda in doing so. Doing her best not to push him or make some angry demands, Paz set a hand on Sam’s nearest knee instead in a bid to make him look at her. This was not the Sam she knew, and she was a little confused as to when he’d had time to do all this shit.

“What the hell? When were you guys planning on telling us?”

Finally fixing his gaze on her, Sam looked from her hand to her brow. “Once we were free. We’re done with the Lakai, Paz, and I’m sure as hell not going to let them profit off that shit. So, we produce the antidote and destroy business for the Lakai or anyone who thinks they could use absom. They can’t destroy Andromeda if there’s a cure.”

To be honest, them coming up with an antidote was fantastic. Life-saving, obviously, for anyone who might encounter absom in the future. But the way he was talking about it, knowing absom would need to be out in the void for this to be profitable… Paz wasn’t comfortable with the idea. Frowning, she shifted against a crate.

“But—.”

“Is this it?” Lonyn interrupted from up front, catching their attention. Automatically scrambling around the others, Noc took a good look through the dash at a slowly incoming wall of dark rock on the canyon’s side. As he studied their surroundings, Paz studied Sam a little more carefully. He was still looking at her, like he was trying to tell her something without actually saying it, but she couldn’t figure it out. A small seed of doubt was growing in her chest, urging her to say something about this mess about an absom antidote.

“Think of it as payback,” he finally remarked, keeping his voice low, one of his own hands covering hers. Paz froze, wishing he hadn’t just said that, but he kept going regardless. “They fucked with us, now we’ll fuck with them, _and_ make a profit off it. It’s only fair.”

For a second Paz was having trouble connecting the dots, but as soon as she did her jaw dropped. He wanted to sell it to the Nav as a third party, one that’d most likely have nothing to do with the federation given her status with the Nav. And if the Nav had an antidote for absom, the Lakai had no way of taking them down.

On one hand, she understood the appeal of that, but given her suddenly terrible history with the Nav…she wasn’t exactly sure this was the way to go.

“Sam,” she whispered, unsure what to say but needing to say something. “That’s—”

“That’s it,” Noc loudly confirmed up ahead, cutting her off. Needing to see this place for herself, Paz switched directions and abruptly stood, stepping over Sam to Noc and Lonyn. She wedged herself between the rover’s front seats, glaring at the dash and hoping getting away from Sam might give her some clarity. It didn’t, but it did keep her from turning around and telling him what douchebags the entire Nav was.

Because directly in front of the rover, maybe a thousand meters out or so behind a sparse smattering of dead trees, lay an entire complex of Nav buildings that sat at the foot of a massive, intricately designed temple carved directly into the chasm’s cliffside. The temple itself was huge, spanning what had to be hundreds of meters along the canyon wall, and the Nav camp below it was so huge it was like its own little city. Both entities were intimidating, and perhaps Noc had been right to warn them of this place.

Balain, just as Coram has described—a Nav camp sitting on holy ground.


	76. Ch 74

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright alright, feelings are hurt and then back to plot B regarding the mysteries of the universe!

Creeping into an abandoned mining operation had to be much better than fighting their way in, but it wasn’t any more reassuring than the latter. Both Noc and Paz were keeping an eye out for living presences but it became clear Balain truly was abandoned the deeper Lonyn drove the rover past rows of dilapidated, looming shacks, all of which were wedged into the canyon’s cramped floor. Nav propaganda littered the uneven ground or hung in tatters where exposed rafters still stood. Aside from a few large piles of rusting junk and trash, the compound’s streets were empty and their buildings seemed the same.

Nobody actively said it but no one in the rover found the desolation assuring. On account of the lack of people, chances of finding a working ship or larger rover was slim. Then there was the fact this place was huge, spanning the canyon completely. They may have arrived in one piece, but the size and the fact Balain was like a giant maze made at least Paz nervous should they be boxed in.

People would need to know where they were to do that, though she doubted it’d be difficult if someone put their mind to it.

Therefore, the crew argued over whether they should abandon or hide the rover while they scoured the site. It made sense in order to cover their tracks, and in the end they did find a dusty, half-collapsed hangar to hide it in. Either they’d find something better or they’d return once their treasure hunt was finished.

Before leaving the nice, warm confines of the rover it was decided they’d split into two groups. Mandrelle, Sam and Paz would search for the third artifact while Lonyn and Sentia would scan for loot. There had to be a few valuable scraps around regardless of the site’s condition. Noc initially didn’t want to go with either party (he’d rather guard their getaway vehicle), but eventually Sentia of all people cajoled him into tagging along. Who’d be a better person to learn the inside scoop about this place and where loot might still be stashed than him?

They piled out behind the rover and went over safety and arms-checks, ensuring everyone had a weapon, a secured suit, and their comms were working, courtesy of Sentia. Balain had a faint network still hanging around, which led them to believe this had definitely been an important place at some point for the Nav, and gave them the opportunity to keep in contact with one another—at least where they stood.

Sentia secured them to the Caishen chat group, finalizing their prep. Both parties split from the hangar with strict directions to return there by nightfall should they lose contact. Also, good luck.

Soon as they were a hundred meters out and crawling down a cramped street grown over with spiky-looking weeds, Paz pulled Sam back from Mandrelle. The head hunter had taken the lead anyway, carefully diving deep into the compound like any other mission. He’d gone with Sam and Paz in case they needed backup. The artifact was of little interest to him personally.

“Yah,” she hissed to Sam, their boots crunching through old detritus. “Why didn’t you say anything about this antidote shit? How long have you known how to counteract it?”

“Before we left,” he mumbled back, disinterested. Originally he’d wanted to go with Lonyn and Sentia, but Paz made the decision for him. They needed to talk. Plus she wanted to know why he was being so weird, but one thing at a time. “I had some on our ship, but I wasn’t thinking and left it on board before we hijacked the Nav ride. Guess I didn’t think anything would go wrong.”

Ah, so he felt a little guilty. Paz still frowned at him, their arms linked while they slowly followed Mandrelle. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It was gonna be our wildcard,” he explained in a quick huff, glancing around at the Nav-issued buildings and junk. “Sentia thought we could pull it should shit hit the fan.”

Which it had, and they’d said nothing. As smart as Sentia was, Paz wasn’t exactly pleased Sam trusted their techy over _her_.

“It _did_ ,” she deadpanned. “Dude, this is big. It’d kill any chance anyone has using absom.”

He twisted to scrupulously eye her. “Ye, it would. Thought you wouldn’t want that, which is also why we didn’t say anything.”

“Why would I _want_ that shit out in the void?” she demanded, feeling a type of anger she didn’t like crawling under her skin. “It’s just—.” Okay, she had to take a second to word it correctly. “Look, you know I’m not team Hyleris or whatever but I can see what the Lakai’s trying to do. They’re trying to keep the Nav at bay and, again, not saying it’s right but it’s all they have.”

“The Nav hates them for good reason,” Sam shot back, visibly growing bitter. He even attempted pulling away but Paz held tight. He wasn’t going anywhere right now. “If they stopped taking the Nav on there wouldn’t be an issue.”

“Nav wouldn’t care,” Paz insisted, dragging Sam along at this point. “They don’t like each other, dude, and that’s never gonna change. And I get it. I know why Lakai’s pissed, I know why they want to fight. Nav does bad shit to us.”

“You’re still alive,” he scoffed. “It can’t be that bad.”

So, now would’ve been a great time to fill Sam in on _why_ the Royal fucking Navy of the fucking Federation were such douchebags, but that would be rational and she’d skipped that step, anger taking her to a whole new level instead. Yanking away from him, she shot him a glare that’d make a lesser person cower. He, unfortunately, had moved his focus to Mandrelle’s distant back.

“ _Excuse me_? You don’t get it, Sam! They have a fucking hate-boner over people like me. You have _no idea_ the kind of shit they’ve pulled!”

“I guess I don’t because you spent a couple months with these assholes—assholes who _stole_ you by the way—and they’ve convinced you they’re good!” he yelled, his words echoing through the area. By now Mandrelle had paused but he clearly wasn’t going to get into this argument. Paz kept a good couple meters away, wishing she could throw down her gun and have a real fit.

“I _told_ you, that’s not what’s going on!” How the hell had they come back to this topic? “You think I joined the cult just because? Sam! This has nothing to do with them! I’m just saying I understand their point! I’ve seen what the Nav does and how they work for people like me. It’s not pretty and maybe they don’t deserve to be dictating everyone’s fucking move. Maybe they need someone to challenge them.”

“Murdering them isn’t challenging!” Sam hollered, dropping his rifle to flail both arms in outrage. “That’s what they’re doing, Paz. It’s what _you’re_ suddenly doing.”

“I’ve done that under Val, too!” she screamed, blind to their surroundings. At this point she couldn’t care less where they were. “I don’t do shit without reason, okay? It’s not like I woke up _asking_ to take this shit on. It just happened!”

“Ye, well, you seem right at home doing it,” he retorted, brows deep under his helmet. “They did this to you, Paz! And you let them! You didn’t fight back or anything. What, did you work your way through the crew and decide they were a fine bunch?”

That snuffed the fire right out, replaced with betrayal. Stepping back further, Paz tried reeling it back but it just wasn’t happening fast enough. She still let stupid notions out. “Why would you say that?”

“Because you’ve done it before,” he exclaimed, looking about ready to shuck his helmet. “Remember those looter chicks in Ruslan? They _robbed_ us but you slept with one and suddenly they were fucking saints just doing what it took to get by.”

“That was one time,” she mumbled, a foreign feeling of shame coursing over her. “It wasn’t—”

“It wasn’t just one time,” he argued, words more acidic than before. “That trader in Delhai, who nearly killed you? That detective in Boros who used you for credits _and_ product, the—”

“Okay, I get it,” Paz loudly interrupted. He didn’t need to list all the people she’d slept with. “Those were one-offs and this is different.”

“It’s not,” he insisted, his loathing palpable. “You even—even let fucking Fiala pull one over on you. You would’ve _died_ if you hadn’t—”

“What do you want me to say?” Paz yelled, wishing she hadn’t started this conversation in the first place. “Huh? What? You know me, Sam. I can’t help myself, and if you had a problem with it then—”

“I don’t!” he cut her off, and even through his helmet she could see his face was beyond red. “I fucking don’t, okay? Never have. But you use that as an excuse every time they trick you and this time it’s like you can’t even see what’s in front of you. They’re using you, Paz, and you’re letting them because you think you like them. You think they like you. No! Fuck the Nav! Let them win. It has nothing do with you. Let them put these fuckers down.”

It was never a good feeling hearing someone you liked express the truth—well, their truth. And, unfortunately, Paz did have to admit he was probably right about a lot of what he’d just said. Still, this _was_ different and she knew it deep down in the very core of her soul. This was her people and the threat they faced. _She_ was part of ‘them’, and that was a fact even if she didn’t belong to the Lakai crew. Sure, fine, maybe she’d gone easy on them, but she had good reasons. It’d never…none of what she felt regarding the Nav or Lakai or Hylerians in general had anything to do with the fact that she’d slept with someone. _That_ hadn’t lowered her guard.

Before she chucked off her helmet and raised hell, Paz cut a glare in the direction she’d last seen Mandrelle. He was difficult to see due to the blurry red tinging her sight. She still managed, jabbing the rifle toward his feet. “Watch him. I’ve got a stick to find and he’ll just get in my way. I’ll find you both later.”

To his credit, Mandrelle didn’t argue. Sam did, starting soon as Paz stormed off in the opposite direction for the looming temple wall.

“Paz, wait. Wait! I didn’t mean it like that and you fucking know it.”

“Oh, I think you did,” she called, refusing to glance back. “Fuck off, Sam.”

“Paz!”

Hylerians could outrun most anyone and Paz was no exception, especially on her ‘home’ turf. She took off before Sam managed two paces closer, disappearing through the compound with every intention of getting lost until she could think straight.

X

He was wrong. She didn’t care how right his words felt. Sam was wrong this time and she’d argue that until her last breath. Currently, as she stalked through the compound grounds, the temple wall growing larger with each new desolate block, she wanted to run back to Sam and beg him to understand everything. That, however, was stupid and weak and _she wasn’t wrong_.

She’d cut her comm off from receiving anything, which was nice because she’d received a barrage of pings earlier from Desh and Coram asking all kinds of stupid things and she didn’t want to talk to those assholes, either. Plus, this way it was just her and her own thoughts.

In a giant abandoned place where a goddamned stick was supposed to be.

Honestly, it was too quiet to her liking, almost cloying. It sort of reminded her of the tomb on Alpha, a sort of graveyard trapped in time. At least there she had an idea where she was going. Here, she was essentially wandering and hoping she got lucky. So far she hadn’t sensed the presence of an artifact, but then again she was still cut up inside rehashing Sam’s argument over and over. At this rate she’d probably passed the stick a dozen times while aimlessly plowing through the site.

Fucking Sam, acting like he knew her. How dare he call her out? All she wanted was to be on the same team as him! Some people would be grateful she’d blown through dozens of Nav sentries to break him out of captivity, but no, _he_ thought it was because she had a brainwashed agenda. She did—have an agenda, that is—but it wasn’t like how he was spinning it. Seriously.

_Ugh_. _Focus_.

She tried. For the first time since they’d arrived she really attempted taking in the massive, aging structures lining the canyon floor. Balain had definitely been a mining site for the Nav. Huge warehouses took up some blocks while ancient looking machinery with jagged, earth-ripping teeth lay out in rotting junk piles. Scrapyards were recurring and the number of managerial-type outhouses was in the dozens. This had not been a small operation. Despite her anger Paz did have to wonder what, exactly, the Nav (or Federation, she supposed) wanted here. Did they ever find it? Knowing them, probably. Probably sucked the earth dry here.

Or…

Attention rising to the looming canyon wall in her peripheral, Paz stared at the intricately carved temple. It was too far to distinguish any details but what if…

Okay, yes, Coram said the Federation didn’t care about Hyleris, but what if they did? Obviously it’d be for the wrong reasons, though who wouldn’t be curious about a place that’d slipped off humanity’s radar? She’d be intrigued at any rate.

Distracted by the thought, she wove through the site intent on reaching the canyon’s edge, curious if it had anything to do with the mining operation. And, it occurred to her, if anything important was around the Nav would likely stash it somewhere fortified. Like near a wall.

The closer she drew the less concerned she was about the others or the stick. Whatever lay within those carvings she sort of wanted to find out—the wall was megalithic, and upon better inspection it turned out those carvings were more familiar than she cared to admit.

Clearing the last of the site’s buildings she craned her neck to study what had to span a couple hundred meters of designed rock. Damn, it was impressive. A red-tinted visual tribute to those who’d come before from the look of it. Two figures, both of whom looked _a lot_ like Guinto, flanked either side of the darkened stone. They stretched on and on up the canyon wall until they reached up to touch a…line? It was a pretty line with little whorls decorating it but a line nonetheless, one that crawled across the entire width of the temple. In between the figures and the line lay hundreds of individual scenes, some of which she could figure out while others made no sense, at least not to her. Star coordinates were shown along with things that looked like ritualistic dancing of tinier figures, and odd looking pods that held others. Some were simply creatures, but what they were or belonged to she didn’t know. One in particular was just several more pretty lines and a few circles.

Man, what she wouldn’t give to have someone explain this shit. Glancing down to the very bottom she spied a large alcove that’d been formed in the rock. It’s depths were dark, but as Paz picked closed to the wall she made out a massive…door, or slab of some sort. It didn’t look open so she figured there was no harm in trotting up past piles of rubble and odd junk. She figured even if it wasn’t accessible, it’d still be neat to examine. If they ever returned to the Lakai it’d be one more thing to brag about to Coram’s sour face.

Thinking about him made her chest constrict, well aware on a cellular level that Sam was indeed correct that she’d let her guard down. She had good reasons of course, but he was right. She’d let the Lakai take advantage of her, even if it was so she might return to her crew. What kind of bitch ass coward did that make her?

“I did everything I could,” she grumbled, slowly traversing a set of crumbled stairs to the alcove. Shadows enveloped her the instant she took cover in the entrance, a coolness even her suit couldn’t hide coming over her. Forgetting about the bullshit argument she’d come from, she took a deep breath and pushed deeper into the cave, the obsidian slab’s landing no more than a few meters from her boots all too soon.

It was definitely a door. She didn’t know what would force it open. Judging by the busted pock-marks lining the alcove someone had tried breaking in. Why not drill in or something? She’d seen drilling equipment on the way over. Were they afraid drilling might hurt the wall’s integrity? Maybe that’s what it was, but then why bother with explosives?

Huh.

Well, she’d come all this way. Might as well touch it and revel in the fact Coram never would. Checking her comm’s stats, Paz determined she could get away without her helmet for a little bit. That was quickly unlatched and set on the ground, and then she unzipped half her suit to gain real contact with the slab. Coram would have a _fit_ if she ever had the chance to tell him about this.

Even though it was supposedly safe, the air was still thin and freezing so she moved fast. She yanked off her inner glove and sleeve and reached out to set her palm against the surface, sure it’d be just as frigid as the air.

The instant warm flesh met cold stone everything change.

It wasn’t gradual at all. Instead, the ground beneath her feet trembled at a dizzying rate, forcing Paz to her knees while she slapped her other hand up for balance. A horrid groan filled the air, pounding in her ears before she realized the slab itself was moving, sliding away from her just as quickly as everything else. Dust and little pebbles rained from above, making her wish she’d kept her damn helmet on. Falling to her side and blindly reaching out for it, she grabbed and curled around the bulky piece of equipment for safekeeping while the groaning and shuddering intensified to a near unbearable level. Holy fuck, what’d she do?

As quickly as it came on the rumbling ceased, leaving Paz looking like an idiot curled around her gear. Remaining like that for a couple blessedly still moments, she dared twisting around to check out the damage.

No damage. The slab had been pulled aside, revealing a pitch black, tunnel-like cavern. Staring into it, Paz wasn’t sure what she’d just done or if it had even been her. Seriously, it’d looked like a lot of people tried opening that slab and yet she touched it (once) and it slid right open?

What the fuck? That kind of shit only happened in cheesy B-rate vids, didn’t it?

Rising to shaking knees, she quickly shoved her helmet back on and scrambled to activate its light. Once it flickered to life she was back on her feet, passing the threshold into the gloomy din. Where it led she didn’t know but she’d be an idiot to not check it out.


	77. Ch 75

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's in the temple??? Is it even a temple??? Why do things keep responding to Paz???

The tunnel felt endless. Paz wasn’t sure how far she’d gone but it never seemed to stop, a lightless void that was constantly sloping downward. At first she’d been intrigued by what were clearly marks of tools along the dark, rough walls, and pocks for what had probably been torch holders at some point lined the way at regular intervals, but other than that she’d seen nor sensed nothing.

It was literally just a small, claustrophobic tunnel that contained no light. Sort of like the void she visited so often, only that almost always felt more roomy than this.

Still. Despite the growing frustrations over this not being as exactly as she’d thought it’d be, Paz kept going. Something had to be down here, didn’t it? And besides, fucking off down here was better than facing the others or trying to find a stick she hadn’t felt even the slightest notion of.

She did feel a little guilty, but only because she likely wasn’t being very useful at the moment. A door had opened though and she was absolutely not going to ignore that.

The deeper she descended the warmer things became, too. It coaxed Paz to pull off her helmet yet again and hold it under one arm as a very inconvenient lantern. She’d unzip her suit again, too, but a nagging voice in her head that sounded a lot like Coram told her it was a bad idea. He was a lot easier to listen to when physically absent. Everyone was, actually.

Stuck in a tiny tunnel on her own made a lot of the anger she’d previously harbored about, oh, _everything_ , dissipate. It was still there, just more…nuanced. In fact she bet if she stayed down here long enough she’d even be reasonable and willing to talk things out with Sam instead of just storming off again. Ye, this time she’d be better.

That was her hope, anyway. She sort of forgot about the others though when the tunnel finally widened, opening up like some kind of mouth.

Stuck with only the helmet light, Paz held it in front of her in hopes it might pierce the looming blackness. It didn’t do much, cutting a dusty path that did seem to spread even wider up ahead. The ceiling wasn’t right above her head anymore, either. Beyond rocky walls there wasn’t much else to make out, at least not what the light could find. Pausing in her traipse, Paz held still and shut her eyes, letting her senses stretch and cast out. So far she hadn’t felt anything. Maybe—

A soft beep, softer than she’d normally be able to hear, filtered around her. It was short and unassuming, and came again about ten seconds later. Frowning, Paz poked open one eye, glancing down at her helmet. Was it her? It couldn’t be. She turned her focus on the pitch-black in front of her, the gentle sound going on. Where was it?

With the next beep she caught the faintest of blinking flashes off in the distance. Homing in on that, she waited until the next beep and blink to confirm it had indeed happened. The helmet was pointed in that direction, its obnoxious white beam crossing through what had to be a large blank space before hitting on a smooth, opaque surface.

Every bone in Paz’s body went taut, senses suddenly on high alert and telling her this was it. What _it_ was she didn’t know, but she’d found it.

Quelling her nerves she swallowed and took a few steps forward in the dark. The ground was still there, still holding her up. She might as well go on.

It paid off hardly five seconds later. With a gentle whoosh the space flooded with ethereal light, turning what she’d thought might be a little area into a giant cavern filled to the brim with…

“Holy fuck,” Paz gasped, helmet dropping along with herself to her knees. There was a ship. A massive, impossible-to-have-put-in-the-ground cruiser from the look of it. Just sitting there across a chasm filled with all kinds of machinery her eyes couldn’t even being to process, not when that _thing_ put her in a stupefied trance.

What the fuck? Why was the ship— _all of this_ —here? It wasn’t really a temple, was it?

Blinking, hoping to shock herself out of a stupid, Paz continued to stare regardless. Seriously, the ship was larger than anything she’d ever seen, even on comm networks or in vids. Damn, it had to have at least a hundred levels. How?! How the fuck did it end up here? And for how long? Judging by the rust covering its exterior, a long time.

And then there was all the shit separating her from the ship. It looked like a lot of serious tech and machinery as far as she could tell, most of it in an unfamiliar, bluish black metal that didn’t appear age-worn in the slightest. Dusty, yes, but not bad. Wait, she’d seen that metal before. Guinto’s things had been made of the same material, even their own personal vessel.

There were plenty of those types of vessels in the mix. Those Paz at least recognized. Everything else seemed a bit foreign. Leaving her helmet where it’d dropped, she moved toward a nearby tower that resembled a monitor or display. If this place had lit up in her presence, maybe other things would, too.

Nothing happened once she stood in front of it, not even when she shrugged out her suit and ran a hand over what looked like buttons. Nothing. Hmm. Trotting to a similar tower she tried again, receiving the same result. Paz attempted waking several more, creeping closer to the mega-ship each time. Some things would beep at her or blink, but she found no visuals or displays explaining what to do. Maybe Coram would know. Like hell she was going to waste time contacting him right now.

“Fuck,” she growled after another failure at a machine that’d definitely looked familiar. Setting both hands on what was clearly a keyboard she pressed down on most keys. “How do you work?”

The gentle beeps from an earlier hadn’t vanished, and as she stared at the display she let her ear try and piece where it was coming from. Not from the ship, that was for certain, but near it. Careful not to make too much noise, she slid between alien tech, following the noise. It took some time but she eventually found its source.

Perhaps she’d made a mistake with the other terminals. A light flashed on top what appeared to be a pretty normal looking console, with even a little stool sitting before a dash. This one looked more similar to what she’d seen elsewhere than anything else, and yes, something on the dash was making the beeping sound.

She’d had luck with her bare hand before. Collapsing on the stool, Paz swept a naked palm over the keys and hoped it’d do something.

It did. Almost instantaneously a dozen monitors before her lit up, foreign script zipping across their faces that her comm had trouble deciphering. She frowned at them, feeling a little defeated. What good was all this if she couldn’t understand anything?

As if it’d read her thoughts, the beeping stopped and was replaced with a single, cheerful, “Welcome home, Kamul.”


	78. Ch 76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, the mystery's unraveled and Paz isn't all that excited about it :/ [ If anyone needs a refresher on the human migration to Andromeda and the Hylerian history please refer to chapter 23 (which, here on Ao3, is chapter 25) ]

Huh. She hadn’t been expecting that, but apparently it’d been a good thing to hold onto Kamul’s comm. That was the only guess Paz had. Jaw loose, she eyed the screens some more before blinking.

“Uh…thanks?”

Her speech must’ve set something off. In a flash the monitors jolted to something her comm could at least translate. Now they looked more like something she could work with. Unsure where to begin she leaned closer and quietly asked, “Ah, what is this…place? What is all this?”

Thankfully, something responded. It sounded like a recording, something crackling directly from the dash.

“Your research facility. Storage Unit Fourteen regarding Terran migration and integration, and necessities to resume bisabalay production.”

The part relating to the ship she understood (kind of), but the other part furrowed her brow. She’d never heard of that despite her comm thinking otherwise. “Bisabalay?”

“Matter, converted,” the dash unhelpfully explained. Sensing she’d get an entire lecture if she asked for clarification, Paz left it at that. If anything she’d relay that to Sentia or someone later. For now she focused on the ship. “Okay, so the ship… Why’s it here?”

“Terran immigration and integration.”

It’d said that before but she didn’t—

Oh.

_Oh_.

Goosebumps broke out over her skin as Paz swiveled to study the monolith. _That_ was the ship that’d gotten lost, the one that’d been separated and ended up in Hyleris’s orbit or whatever. It was, for all intents and purposes, how her Terran ancestors had arrived from that place Coram talked about. Judging by its recklessly large size she assumed it was the only one.

She didn’t know why she wanted to but she softly asked, “Can I go inside? Is it still intact?”

To her left the ship adopted a lighter complexion as its million windows lit up with a warm glow. Eyes flitting between the titan and monitors, Paz figured the hundred new stats pulling up had something to do with the ship. Finally the dash dinged with clearance, explaining further.

“Records from your previous investigations have been pulled and are ready. They will be sent to you now. The Lupa can be accessed on level seven. Previous examination shows much of the Lupa dismantled but structurally sound.”

Gutted, but safe. Got it. Wobbling off the stool she faced the ship one more time, taking in its awesome presence. She made it a few meters before pausing again.

“There’s no one inside, right? Am I the only one here?”

_At this time, yes_ , the dash answered via an allowed ping, giving her some solace. Squaring her shoulders, Paz told herself it’d be just a quick little jaunt to see where they’d come from.

Then she hurried toward the ship.

X

For the most part the Lupa felt like one of those huge cruise ships Paz had seen in vids, ones which made stops at Centurion Beta and other ritzy quadrants. Having entered on the seventh level she’d wandered down endless halls and corridors packed with all kinds of spaces. Some levels held strictly living quarters from the look of it while others had a much more mixed vibe, with both recreational and personal rooms. Other areas she assumed could’ve been places for parks or sports.

And while the Lupa _was_ mostly intact, there were large sections where ancient mechanics had worn out or structuring had collapsed. Avoiding those areas, she took her time simply exploring and studying the remnants of what looked to have been a highly capable, if antiquated, society. A few faded tapestries and other pieces of art lined her meandering path, depicting people and things that appeared mostly familiar. If those people were partially her ancestors then she could assume not much had changed in a couple thousand years.

Well, besides the parts Hylerians had given them, but their features were nearly identical to what most Fed people looked like.

There were no weapons, none that she could find anyway. She assumed Kamul or someone like them had already scavenged anything like that eons ago. Anything of obvious value seemed to be missing, but she hadn’t been looking for any loot in here anyway. She was just content to explore. It wasn’t every day one had the opportunity to stroll through history.

Nothing quite grabbed her attention though like when she emerged in a half-broken room, the floor mostly gone and brimming with eroding wires. Even the walls groaned as she carefully stepped in. It looked like a bridge of sorts…if a bridge had been partially wrecked, but it was on a level appropriate with that kind of room. Honestly, Paz was guessing.

Still, it didn’t stop her from hopping over gaping holes in the metal floor to arrive in front of a circular table thing. A dash was available. Figuring things worked due to Kamal’s biometrics she set her palm over it, hoping it’d wake a monitor somewhere in the room.

Instead, a 3D image of an orb appeared above the table, flickering momentarily before coming into focus. It looked…looked like a planet. Paz assumed it was Terra, the slowly-rotating orb showing off a filmy green and beige surface. It looked like a junker planet, to be honest, sort of like the smaller rocks Triads took over, then used as trash heaps for their business ventures. Interesting.

A tinny melody filled the room, probably sounding much worse than ever intended. Paz was almost relieved when it was replaced by someone speaking.

“Welcome aboard La Lupa, our home amongst the stars. Current stats indicate extensive damage to hull and internal facilities. Appropriate teams have been notified and are currently resolving damage at this time. For more information please contact your systems administrator.”

The message ended after that. It looped a couple more times but that seemed to be it. Distracted, Paz stared at the picture, mesmerized by its ever-changing, rotating features. Her mind went back to what Coram had relayed about Terra, comparing it with what Kamul had shown her. Neither gave much information and she supposed she’d know more if she’d ever bothered doing some research (it wasn’t exactly a secret the Federation came to Andromeda from elsewhere), but actually seeing where they supposedly hailed from made it somehow more…intimate.

Centurion Beta was prettier though if she were judging on looks alone. Terra wasn’t exactly the blue pristine dream she assumed it’d be.

Sparkles caught her attention, drawing her gaze up to the ceiling. Paz grinned at the sight of faux twinkling stars, a million clustered along the surface in various constellations she didn’t recognize. A particular cluster had been highlighted and she took a few steps back to stand beneath it. Again, she wasn’t familiar with it but that was nothing new. Thinking hard, she studied the cluster before opening the encyclopedic file that’d been added to her comm. If…if she’d been leaving Terra and headed in that direction, what would be so special about that constellation?

Her comm came back with what had probably been the obvious, but it still made her grin broaden like an idiot. The lit whorl of stars was Andromeda. Their new home.

So then what’d happened? They’d made it—er, kind of. Well, they’d crossed a vast expanse of the void and ended up in the right neighborhood. That was pretty amazing in itself. If the Lupa had stalled or something and pulled into Hyleris’s orbit though, then it led her to believe it hadn’t been entirely successful. Live people had been on board, she knew that from Kamul. They’d essentially been bred and reborn here on Hyleris. Apparently, at some point they’d hid their ship in some kind of underground storage bin…? Or, had someone else done that? Someone like Kamul and Guinto’s ancestors? Why? And when had the Nav truly gotten involved?

There was a hundred percent chance she’d never know what happened, and given how Paz wasn’t here specifically to write a master post on this complicated story she wasn’t going to waste much time on it. Maybe one day she’d send Coram all the details so _he_ could figure it out, but for now she was just impressed with the little show she’d stumbled upon.

She took a few shots of the orb and constellation on her comm before leaving, wandering the ship’s halls some more until the weight of an entire civilization having lived in this place previously became too heavy. Bidding Lupa goodbye, Paz climbed out and walked through the machinery graveyard until she returned to the only console that’d opened for her. Still running, its monitors had filled up with an assortment of information in her absence. While exploring she’d had a thought, and now she was curious if the display knew anything about it.

Also, she just liked hearing it try and answer her questions. Hearing was a lot easier than trying to read and decipher some of the bullshit on display.

Back on the stool and clearing her throat she asked, “Yah, if humans are from Terra, how do they survive here? In Andromeda?”

“An extra protein shielding the genetic and cellular material from positional radiation would be sufficient,” the dash explained, which was somehow more than what she’d been hoping for and also less, mostly because it was too vague. Nodding like it’d see the movement, Paz tried again.

“Terran Hylerians have this protein then, ye? Is it in anything else?”

“Terran Hylerians contain thirty precent more bisabalay than other members of the same species, twenty-five percent of which is provided from genetic splicing, and five percent from naturally occurring mutations. A selection from the same species would require roughly eight percent for proper survival.”

Ah. Figured why the Nav needed Hylerians to synthesize this bullshit protein thing which, she guessed, was called bisabalay. Even if they did get ‘natural mutations’ from, she supposed, exposure, it wasn’t enough. As the dash gave its answer it’d pulled up pertinent information on its displays, listing all available resources for this bisabalay thing. It didn’t escape Paz that it’d already said this place apparently _made_ (or had made) bisabalay, whatever it was. Squinting at plants and rocks she knew existed all over Andromeda, Paz cocked her head sideways.

“Okay, so…pretend I’m completely stupid, ye? What the hell is bisabalay and why is it so important? Why’s Kamul—why do _I_ have an entire warehouse full of shit that can produce it?”

For a moment the cavern was quiet, as if the dash had to take a moment to gather everything together. “Bisabalay cannot be produced but rather refined and converted. Bisabalay contains the universal code of what could be deemed molecular life. Your friend Professor Neena Khan referred to it as dark matter, or, universal essence. When refined it can be used in a variety of activities and resources, and has proven successful in preserving correct mutations for survival in a vast amount of species.”

Lips pursed, Paz let that all sink in. Most of it went over her head but she understood the general idea. Maybe. One thing didn’t make sense though.

“Hmm. And where are we getting this bisabalay stuff from? Here, on Hyleris? Or where?”

“Hyleris exudes bisabalay.”

Sure. “No, I mean, how? Like we dig it up or what?”

“Surface extraction isn’t necessary. Hyleris exudes bisabalay at regularly occurring intervals.”

Clearly the dash didn’t understand what she was asking. Making a fist, Paz jabbed it at the dash a few times. “Then where does Hyleris get it?”

The displays abandoned their technical stats, replaced with a map of…more constellations. Inwardly, Paz groaned, but as she eyed the screens she noticed some stars moving, others growing and contracting. Something told her the dash was answering her, but like hell if she knew what it meant. It made no sense to her.

“As with all entities, Hyleris is naturally sufficient. An override can be made and has been accessed thirty-eight known times from various portals, two of which were from Hyleris. Override can replenish bisabalay. However, it is extremely volatile.”

_Volatile_.

“As of last check-in, Hyleris cannot be overrode due to missing override components.”

It went on but Paz tuned it out, fixating on those last few words. Missing override components. Why did that sound familiar? Components for…overriding something? What?

Maybe opening something up?

…Like keys?

As if she’d struck the right nerve, Guinto’s words slammed to the forefront of her brain. “ _Should you be blessed to find the third key and reach Lakai, it would be wise for you to wake the entity. Intent matters._ ”

Like they had a physical presence, Guinto’s words hit at full force and Paz’s eyes widened, abruptly drawing back and knocking herself onto her ass. Guinto hadn’t meant waking Hyleris; they’d meant overriding whatever guarded this ‘volatile’ thing.

“Uh,” she shakily started, drawing up on her knees and studying the undulating image above her. “When you say ‘volatile’, what exactly do you mean?”

“Varying levels of released bisabalay can have various reactions,” the dash remarked, sounding so casual about it. Good thing it hadn’t seen her little freakout then. “Species sensitive to exposure would be at most risk to damage.”

Look, that sounded pretty harmless but Paz had a good idea if Coram was looking to ‘wake Hyleris’ then it wouldn’t be minor damage, whatever the fuck that meant. Heart racing, she suddenly understood what the captain’s end game was. Swallowing the urge to scream, she dared asking one more question. “Sure. Fine. Um, so….are Terran Hylerians sensitive?”

“Depending upon volume release, the species in question could theoretically withstand exposure to bisabalay saturation. Subjects from its home species, the Terran, theoretically would not.”

Stunned into silence, Paz wondered how the fuck she’d been tricked into almost finding all three keys to do this ‘waking’ business. Holy fuck, Coram was fucking nuts. Did he not know? Was that it? Did he not realize how dangerous his plan was? Or did he just not care? Look, she understood the need for vengeance just as much as the next Hylerian _but he couldn’t fucking murder everyone else in the process_.

“A carefully planned override produces sufficient bisabalay for regional fulfillment,” the dash went on, as if it knew she might be freaking out, but she barely heard it. It did prevent her from crying in frustration though so that was just…you know, grand. “In fact, a careful manual override would be extremely beneficial according to current cluster stats. Neighboring quadrants currently lack a sufficient bisabalay saturation which, given current projections, may be detrimental to natural species.”

But a reckless override would be bad. Like, super bad. Paz was willing to bet Coram wasn’t interested in a controlled, carefully planned one, not if the Nav could benefit from it.

The conversation from Centurion Alpha kept pounding in her skull. Guinto’s warning suddenly made a lot more sense. Intent _did_ matter. Hence, if it was done it could be beneficial—if done correctly. _That_ was why they’d asked her feelings on the colonies, on the current state of Andromeda. Too much of this bisabalay shit and the entire Federation went down.

And probably everything else in Andromeda, too.

Fuck. Coram couldn’t have that last key. No fucking way would she let him have it, because she didn’t know what he’d do with them. Someone else? Maybe, but definitely not anyone she currently knew. What the fuck did it even entail?

No, no, she didn’t want to know because it wasn’t fucking happening. Holy fuck would she make sure of that.

Fuck, she needed out of there. _They_ needed off Hyleris and as far away from the Lakai as possible, preferably across the entire galaxy. Coram couldn’t come down here so if a key was on Hyleris it was pretty damn safe, and if she hadn’t felt it then maybe he’d gotten his intel wrong. Maybe it was completely lost. Great. One less thing to worry about, but regardless, her crew was hauling ass immediately. She wasn’t going to help the Lakai with this kind of endeavor.

And if he ever managed and she caught wind of it? Oh, she’d come right back and rip him limb from limb. Ye, the Nav sucked balls. She understood that. Didn’t mean _everyone_ deserved a potential meltdown if the dash was to be believed. Also, on a petty note: this scheme he had was a little dramatic, no? Pretty unlikely, too, if it hadn’t been for her stupid ass helping him find the keys. No wonder he’d been keen on producing absom. Coram probably hadn’t thought he’d actually get the keys, not until she showed up on his radar.

Rising, Paz glanced around at the hundreds of machines littering the cavern floor. It wasn’t just useless terminals and hunks of the blueish metal that she had no idea what to do with. She’d seen other things, too. Maybe they’d be useful, maybe not, but at this point she wasn’t leaving this pit empty-handed. Beyond that, Hylerian tech, from what she’d used, was pretty badass.

She abandoned the dash and took off, working through the rows in search of overlooked weapons or something productive, blatantly ignoring the ship behind her and the horrific realization she’d just come to. It did no good worrying over shit she couldn’t control, at least not until she was out of here. Nothing really caught her eye but she did find something that _looked_ like a small handgun that appeared in good shape. It was clearly built for Hylerians what with the odd hold placements, but still. She holstered that to her suit’s belt and kept looking, rushing in order to leave sooner. There was no doubt she was missing shit but it shouldn’t be helped.

Putting distance between her crew and the Lakai had suddenly become incredibly important, no matter the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the question is, do we think Coram would have ever actually used those keys or would it have been more of a posturing thing? Hmm...
> 
> AN: I'm not posting again until the new year (2021!) so this is it for 2020! Thanks for reading!


	79. Ch 77

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Panic mode's been activated!

Perhaps deserting was a mistake. Paz didn’t want to admit it, but, well…

It was kind of hard to ignore the chaos going on once she reemerged from the tunnel with exactly two new gun-looking things and a hell of a lot of sweat to show for the effort, which only enhanced her shivering soon as she hit fresh air. Her problems immediately evaporated as she stumbled down the steps and back into the sprawling Nav operation.

Two things caught her attention real fast: One, the battle from two locations ago had apparently shifted and now darkened the sky above the canyon. Two, the maze of abandoned buildings and warehouses wasn’t exactly abandoned any longer. Oh no, it was like half the Federation had shown up, with representing ships from all over the colonies hovering as both a shield from the above battle and providing cover to ground troops.

They weren’t even all Nav. Paz only knew this because a whole fucking crowd of soldiers from Delhai and Karkinos _watched_ her emerge from beyond the slab that’d only slid open to let her out. You know, like fucking magic.

So…

After a couple blinks from both sides, she took off in a flash, dodging bullets and plasma and armored people alike, swerving around the crowd and machinery junk to dive right into the maze. Adrenaline had her body wired taut, pushing her to set as much distance as she possibly could from all those foreign bodies while reaching out to anyone familiar. Everything around her was a blur of color and noise, and she knew her feet wouldn’t stop until she was free from Balain.

Fucking hell though, _how were there so many people suddenly here_? It was still light out. She hadn’t spent _that_ much time underground. They couldn’t possibly have been waiting on her to come out.

She reopened her comm, ignoring the flood of incoming pings and hastily throwing out her own. Path after path she hauled ass, all thoughts about what she’d learned gone. Nope, survival mode had activated and she didn’t have time to think. Literally everything else could wait.

Lonyn and Sentia were safe—so far. With Noc’s help they’d commandeered a fortified warehouse in Balain’s southern edge. They’d found a ship in there, hence trying to keep it for themselves, but flying through the overhead shit seemed like a longshot. At least they were alive. Paz pinged repeatedly that she’d find them soon as she could, using her new weapons once or twice in her bid to coerce Fed soldiers to back off.

Nobody liked losing a limb from a single shot of alien tech, one shot which was like a dozen blasts of plasma rounds.

Mandrelle and Sam were harder to get a read on. Mandrelle had a few angry monologues for her but they were currently stalking from building to building, trying to make their way to the others. They were in the complete opposite direction though so it was slow going. Sam kept apologizing to Paz, which somehow pissed her off and she snapped at him to knock it off, switching course regardless and heading for the last coordinates Mandrelle’s pings came from. On the way she began shooting upwards, hoping a few less ships might make things easier.

It didn’t, not really, but it did increase the overall chaos when several large ships crashed into Balain’s grounds with horrific screeches and clouds of fire and smoke. There was no room to think about her decisions right now; she just had to get to the others so they might make it to the ship warehouse in one piece.

Closer, closer. Darting between barely-standing buildings and gasping for air, Paz could feel them getting closer. She whipped around another corner, cutting straight through a skirmish of Nav and Colonial soldiers—What the fuck? Fuck, no time to figure that shit out—down another path crammed full of old junk, their faint heartbeats becoming like beacons to her senses. Just a little farther, probably—

Pausing only a second, she glanced up at a tall building on her left. It was ramshackle as rest the of them but she only felt a few people in there, one of them being the wonderful familiarity that was Sam. Starting again she rounded the building, nailing a couple soldiers in the process while searching for a way in. A double-doored entrance was located on the other side but it’d been blocked with rubble, dust still pluming from a blast or collapse. Figuring they’d gotten inside from there she looked up again to higher levels.

Three levels up lay a line of shattered windows. There wasn’t enough time to think of anything else. Ignoring encroaching presences behind her she quickly shucked the locking cuffs around her wrists and yanked off her gloves, Hyleris’s frigid temperatures really sinking in then. Dexterity was needed though so soon as she’d clipped her weapons to her belt she made a direct, rushed run for the rubble pile.

Hyleris’s lower gravity helped, allowing her to scale the pile at a run and launch upwards, fingers latching on to a ledge a couple meters above the blocked doors. Gripping like mad she utilized every single muscle earned from Desh’s workouts, shoulders strong while lifting herself up. Pausing didn’t exist—she needed momentum to keep going, boots scrabbling for purchase on the wall’s rough material.

She climbed the building like a monkey, eyes trained on those fucking windows like they were the only thing that matters.

_Paz, you gotta go,_ Sam suddenly pinged, his words barely registering. _Paz, go! Get out of here!_

_I’m almost there_ , she absently pinged back, focused on her mission. _Just hold on, ye? I’m sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean—_

_Paz, you shouldn’t be here! Go find the others—now!_

What the fuck? She kept climbing, growing pissier by the second. _Dude, I said I was sorry!_

Reaching the windows, she rotated herself up and over the first one she could grab. Her landing wasn’t very graceful but whatever, at least she hit shoddy metal grating instead of nothing at all. The whole thing felt like it’d collapse any second. Wasting no time she rolled onto her knees and called for him, her helmet broadcasting everything.

“Sam? Sam! Where the fuck are you?”

_Stop it_ , he pinged back, words rushed. _Just shut up and get the fuck out—_

A harsh bang erupted beneath her. Freezing, Paz tried pinpointing how far below it’d come from but it did no good. She felt nothing, only a couple bodies somewhere nearby and they were both so familiar it made her heart race extra hard. Without thinking she took off across the quivering floor, desperately searching for stairs or some way down.

Another bang came from below, followed by the most painful scream she’d ever heard and, oh fuck, that’d been Mandrelle. She’d know his muffled voice anywhere. White dots formed in her peripheral, making Paz that much more frantic. Forgetting the perimeter of a fairly open floor plan she raced to the middle, relieved to find an open space that ran from the top of the building all the way to the bottom, like an atrium. Leaning over a barely-there railing she cursed out loud at the sight of Mandrelle’s back partially obscured by broken piping. He was sitting on his ass on the ground floor, and she wanted to demand why but tunnel vision told her it didn’t matter. _Just get to him_.

_Hang on,_ she pinged to Sam, already hopping over the rail and falling for the lowest level. _Just hang on._

No response. She didn’t care, one arm grabbing at the next rail she could catch, halting a fantastic splatter. Instead, she only dropped one level to the ground at full force, which wasn’t bad. Whipping around as soon as she recovered she frantically sought out Mandrelle’s back once more. There he was, just ten meters in front of her, right next to—

Right next to—

Her brain shorted, unable to full comprehending what she was seeing. Mandrelle sat in a huge gash of blood, his bellowing finally reaching her ears. Before him stood someone she’d never expected to see again—definitely not here at any rate.

Val.

And she stood tall and proud, too, a smirk visible beneath her helmet as her eyes raked Paz up and down. One fist rested on a hip. The other pointed a plasma rifle at Mandrelle’s feet, but it wasn’t just him sitting there. No, on his left lay a limp body, limbs strewn every which way, blood also pooling around itself as well because…there was no head.

No head.

No helmet.

It’d all been shot clean off at the neck.

That didn’t stop Paz from knowing who it was. Who lay next to Mandrelle in his own fucking blood. Who’d been cut off mid-ping. Who’d been fucking beheaded by…

Val.

For a single second it felt like everything stood still. Just, the idea that Val would be here, that she’d hold a gun to Sam’s head, to Mandrelle even….it didn’t…

“You’ve cost me so many credits,” Val finally breathed, each word low and lethal as it hit Paz’s murky ears, working right over Mandrelle’s panicked cries. Osiris’s captain stepped closer, boots sullying the combined blood she walked over. Paz couldn’t move, couldn’t blink, couldn’t breathe. All she could do was stare at…Sam.

“You ruined _everything_ I set up, Topaz,” Val went on, practically floating toward her. “You murdered Fiala, destroyed her operation which I was going to grab, thank you very much. Made a liar out of me to the Nav, _took my crew_ , and now you’re here on this fucking rock causing all kinds of trouble. I look all sorts of incompetent thanks to you. Is that any way to thank someone who fucking raised you?”

“Y-you…” was all Paz managed, voice strangled by a foreign sensation spreading through her body and burning her limbs. She was shaking, or maybe the building was? This couldn’t be happening. Sam couldn’t have died. It just—no. No, no, no. She wasn’t seeing this right. Sam. Fuck. Where…where was his…?

Despite Val’s snarl to turn around and pay attention she refused, twisting to search for a stray helmet, or just—anything. Fucking anything. But the ground behind her, behind them, was empty. Val’s plasma rifle had…vaporized…Sam.

Val was still growling, motioning her rifle at Paz. Paz didn’t hear it though, didn’t hear anything aside from the sudden rush of blood pounding in her ears. No way. There was no way. Val wouldn’t do this. It made no sense, and Sam…why? Fucking why? Val wouldn’t.

And yet she’d thought that previously. Thought Val would never actually consider her property, would never actually sell her.

She’d thought they were family. All of them.

She thought she knew the people she’d shared decades living with.

She’d been wrong.

And Sam paid for it.

Somewhere in her soul a flip switched, splattering Paz’s vision red. Fists clenching at her sides she slowly spun about to face the motherfucking waste of space. Val still spewed vitriol, still acted as if she had the upper hand. Still acting like she was in control and hadn’t just murdered someone who’d dedicated most his life to her.

To them. To their crew. _Her_ crew.

One second Paz was several meters away. The next she was up in Val’s personal space, slamming into the bitch and tackling her to the filthy ground. Their arms and legs tangled, both thrashing. Dropping her rifle in the fray, Val fought to push Paz off but it was impossible. The Hylerian clung to her, thighs fighting to wrap around the captain, both bodies rolling in blood. With that stupid helmet in the way there wasn’t much Paz could damage but she tried nonetheless, knuckles barely cracking Val’s gear. Knees and elbows were everywhere, and it took a second to understand that high-pitched shriek was coming from Paz herself. She didn’t bother stopping. Never. Not when it clearly hurt Val’s ears.

Smacking into the nearest wall Val used the shift as leverage, bucking Paz off before scrambling to her feet and taking off. Paz shot off right behind her, following Val across the floor to a corner with a door. Val pushed it open and slammed it shut behind her, Paz crashing into it a second too late. She tried the old-school handle, screaming her fury as it jiggled uselessly. Locked. She wasted precious seconds grabbing one Hylerian gun from her belt, aiming directly at the door’s middle and blasting a hot, angry slug of molten material right through.

Ahead of her lay a staircase, and you’re damn right she flew up them two steps at a time, possessed with the need to catch up to Val. The captain was running at top speed, the rickety stairwell shuddering with both their pounding movements. Nothing but the captain mattered. Paz tracked her as she ascended, screaming bloody threats that she swore to the entire universe she’d carry out soon as she caught up, and she was gaining. Val was only one winding landing away. They were quickly running out of steps, too, each new landing dictating there was only so much room left.

As if to prove that Val reached another door hardly fifteen steps up, pulling the same trick from below and sealing it shut the second she’d pushed through. This time Paz was ready, slamming out another round of lethal material that ate right through the door. She ducked through without waiting, plasma hissing on her shoulders and cracking her own damn helmet in the process. Didn’t matter. She rushed out onto the other side only to find a stark roof littered with debris. Val was shuffling to the edge, hands up and staring at Paz like she’d never seen the pissed Hylerian before.

“Topaz, I—”

“You killed him,” Paz seethed, voice not her own. She advanced on Val without thinking, dropping her weapon. If Val was going to die it was going to be by her own fucking hands. “You fucking killed him!”

“He was keeping you from me,” her former captain exclaimed, enunciating heavily. “He knew what would happen if he went against me.”

“He was loyal!” Paz screamed, Val’s words worthless. “He was loyal, but he was mine! _How could you? How the fuck could you!?_ ”

The backs of Val’s boots hit the roof’s edge and she paused, her expression growing wistful. In the distance an engine roared, drawing closer by the second. Paz ignored it if only because it looked like Val might actually see the error of her ways and apologize. It wouldn’t change the fact Paz was going to dismember the captain then run her through machinery and toss her scattered, broken remains into the void, but Paz had to know. She had to hear Val say she’d been wrong.

Instead, Val’s gaze shifted above Paz and that infernal smirk returned.

“Easy,” she finally called, one arm reaching up. “I had help.”

And then her stretched hand grabbed onto a lowered hatch ladder, startling Paz out of her tiny, molten reality. She looked up, a shimmering ship hovering maybe thirty meters up, suddenly noticing the wind whipping across the roof from its powerful thrusters. What the…fuck? Dumbfounded, she stared at its foreboding body until it began shrinking.

Taking Val with it, the captain clinging to the flimsy ladder for dear life. Too stupid to react, Paz only raised another gun when it was too late. When Val was a small, swinging target too high to properly aim for, and the ship was rising to join the ranks of other ships meandering in the vicinity.

Her bones ached with fury. Unsure what else to do Paz dropped to her knees, gun clattering nearby while her helmet was yanked off and chucked off the roof’s edge. Gasping for air, shuddering in a bid to remain in control, she watched the rig fucking disappear once it’d reached the others, cloaking itself so as not to be spotted by incoming fleets. Just like…just like the modification Sentia used to make for Mandrelle. There one second, gone the next.

There was never a Hylerian who screamed so hard, not like Paz. She didn’t even know what she was saying. It just…came out, piercing the smoky air and never really stopping.

X

Returning downstairs was the hardest thing Paz ever did. She didn’t want to. Fuck did she not want to return to… _that_ , but some struggling part of her recalled Mandrelle and his desperate cries.

So, somehow, she forced her legs to work and trudged back downstairs, back to the bloodbath and back to…Mandrelle, his breath shallow and beleaguered when she finally emerged from the stairwell. He lay on the floor now, too, chest rising and falling dramatically. Drifting closer, Paz absently observed he was missing a good portion of his right foot and calf, his suit now broken and exposing him to Hyleris’s extreme cold. He didn’t look blue in the face though, meaning his helmet had sealed itself from the rest of his suit. He’d probably die regardless, not when his stump of a leg was gushing blood, just like Sam’s—

Thinking like that would break the functioning spell that’d come over her. Unzipping her suit and removing her shirt, she collapsed on numb knees in front of Mandrelle and mutely studied the pulsing, hideous mass of garish flesh he was faintly babbling over. Grabbing the stump didn’t bother her, but it sure bothered him. He screamed to high heaven and squirmed mightily, desperate to get away even as she wrapped her shirt tight as possible around and over the wound.

It soaked through near immediately so she took off her pants before zipping her suit back up, tying those around the stump as well. In the meantime Mandrelle swore and incoherently explained Val had cornered them, how she’d barely even waited for Sam to argue. Very little of his admission registered.

Scooting between Mandrelle and…the other body—no, _Sam_ , her other half from the Osiris, Paz felt herself breaking on the inside. The bond she’d had with Sam was being purged at the same time and searing like a knife twisting in her gut. This was her fault. Lying between them, drawing a knee up and over Sam’s stomach, she knew.

She’d let this happen. Watched him come here. Let him out of her sight. Allowed him to…find her in the first place knowing he should’ve stayed with Val instead. Years and years of being one another’s reason for staying in line had come to a head

He’d been obnoxiously right this time. She’d dragged him into something stupid, _let_ him be involved because of her inability to be smart and skeptical of the people who surrounded her. She’d let him fall into this trap with her, only she’d survived and he hadn’t.

He hadn’t, because that’d been the rule. The consequence of acting out.

And she’d caused it.

This was punishment. Her closest person ripped from existence, because of her poor, volatile, choices.

Curling into what was left of Sam, Paz shut her eyes tight and whispered apologies into his chest.

He deserved every damn one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *deep breath* Honestly, out of everyone? Val's probably the most ruthless player in this game (sorry Cor!) :/
> 
> Anyway, working on editing the next couple chapters because they're not what I wanted, will post soon as I deem them fit! Happy New Year! :)


	80. Ch 78

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look, Val had some humanity and compassion, but not a never-ending fountain of it, she had her own things going on and Paz isn't the center of the universe lol. In Val's world, payment means payment.

~ Four and a half months ago~

Omega quadrant, M12, Daysturis

“Look, I _know_ how it is with you two,” Val confessed, still tapping on her desk. She’d held Sam in her office for what felt like far too long, and yet she still hadn’t dismissed him after interrogating him for ages. He had no idea why not. None of his stammered guesses over the whereabouts of Paz pleased her.

And yet, here they were, Val grasping at anything and Sam just as confused, and pissed, as before.

“You two got along great,” Val added, gaze slipping from him to the chair Paz normally sat in on his left. “No idea why given how terrified you were of her at first, but I’m not gonna deny it. She was special to you, Sam. That’ll be hard to replace.”

_Ye_ , he bitterly thought, slumping further in his seat. Gods, he wished she’d stop asking him so many questions, all of which he couldn’t answer beyond what he’d already offered.

“So,” the captain quietly murmured, “I’m going to make this as clear as possible.”

Her tone alone forced Sam’s heart to skip a beat. Swallowing his nerves, Sam shifted slightly. “What?”

“Let’s be honest,” Val went on, leaning back in her own chair, nails finally quitting their tapping. “There’s only two ways this went down. Either she’s attempting to return to us, or… she’s taken to whoever captured her. You know how she is. Paz gloms on to anyone who gives her a fucking smile, so I’m sure that’s occurred by now. _We_ know, however, that anyone else holding onto her is bad news. Therefore, while it might seem impossible to hunt her down, even with the Nav’s help…I don’t think it’s impossible.”

“Oh-kay…” Sam uncomfortably mumbled, tugging on his shirt collar. Was it just him or were the walls closing in? Why was Val telling him any of this? Out of anyone in their crew, he definitely knew Paz best. Of course he’d assumed she would take to whoever captured her—she _always_ did that, unfortunately—but he had faith in her. He knew what her priorities were. She wouldn’t just abandon him if she could help it.

If…if she was still alive, then there was no way she had no intentions of returning to him.

“What do you…what do you mean?” Sam finally inquired, unsure what Val was trying to tell him. His captain flashed impeccable teeth at him, as if she’d expecting him to ask.

“No one knows what could’ve happened to her, least of all you,” she calmly answered, her smirk slowly dropping into a grimace. It was clear she was disgusted no one had answers to her demands. “But…you can help me get her back.”

Wasn’t that—but he’d thought his help was useless. Frowning, Sam quirked his head one way. “Ah…why? I just told you, I don’t…”

“I know that,” Val snapped, chin dipping, brow darkening. “What I mean, Sam, is _you_ can lure her back. She loves you, ye? So we use that to our advantage—dangle you as bait so she drags her ass back here without delay. If we use you, the Nav won’t have to do much of anything. Understand?”

Sort of. Well, no, Sam absolutely understood, but it didn’t sit well with him. A short vision of him pleading with various media outlets for her return came to mind or, even worse, him being paraded around in handcuffs by the Triads or someone just as notorious, demanding her return or else he died. He _understood_ Val’s position, but he didn’t like it, nor did he want Paz to think he’d stoop to that kind of demeaning trick. If she was okay then he _knew_ , he already knew, that she was trying to find a way home. Didn’t matter if she’d befriended her captors; she always came home.

To him.

His brow furrowed deeper, an angry sensation warming his gut. “I—what?”

“She’ll return for you,” Val explained, tone turning impatient. “You know it, I know it. Everyone knows it. If she thought you were in trouble, or hurt, she’d race right back, consequences be damned. This doesn’t have to be difficult, Sam. All we’d have to do is—”

“No,” he barked, popping from his chair and swiveling around to pace the cramped office. “No! This is serious, Val. What if _she’s_ hurt? What if she’s in danger? What if she saw me in that kind of light and did something stupid to get to us? No, I won’t do that.”

The captain doubled down, reaching across the desk to jab a finger at him. “Yes, you will. It’s the only way she’d—”

“No!” Sam exclaimed, backing up to the door and yanking on its handle. It didn’t budge. Figured he was locked in here with the captain. Cursing under his breath, he whipped around and jabbed an entire hand at her. “No. Fuck no. This isn’t right, Val. Let the Nav find her, ye? That’s their job, isn’t it? To do the impossible? I want Paz home, don’t fucking worry about that, but I know her. If she thought we were compromised she’d do the first stupid thing that comes to mind and I just—”

Swallowing the rest, Sam kept it to himself. He knew she’d do something stupid because it was what she did. She never thought things through, and definitely not under duress. He wouldn’t be responsible for making her do something stupid. No, if she were on her own, maybe she’d…maybe she’d figured something out. She usually did, and without distractions. That way she wouldn’t feel rushed. That way she might think things through.

“She won’t come back otherwise, Sam,” Val growled, rising to her own feet. Despite being a few inches shorter than him, she made an imposing figure from across the desk. “I gave you to her as a plaything. You know that, don’t you? I figured if she had someone to bond with, perhaps she’d calm down, and that’s exactly what happened. She won’t come back for me, or for anyone else. But you, Sam…she’d come back for. Don’t you want her with us? Don’t you want to keep her safe?”

_You’re selling her to the Nav_! he wanted to scream, but that died in his throat as he futilely sagged against the door. This couldn’t be happening. He didn’t know why Val was so hellbent on goading him into this role when she clearly didn’t want Paz in the first place. All she wanted was to find Paz so the sale to the Nav could go through.

There was no way he’d help her with _that,_ but how could he refuse? He could bitch all day; it still didn’t change the fact Val owned him.

“I don’t want her getting hurt,” he finally mumbled, huffing an excruciating exhale. “I can’t…it’d make her mess up.”

“Well too bad,” the captain hollered, slamming a fist down on her desk, papers shivering in the process. “You’re going to help me, Sam. There are people who would like to use her for every credit she’s worth and I won’t have it, alright? She’s mine, and if anyone’s going to profit off her it’s going to be me. Yah, don’t look at me like that.”

He was looking at her with wide eyes, surprised she’d take this route. Val’s angry growl was the only thing that kept him listening.

“She’s Hylerian, Sam—not like me, not like you. This is what she’s good for, okay? So. You’re going to lure her back to me. If you don’t, I will personally knock that fucking head of yours off. I’m not going to sit around waiting for her to return of her own means, because we all know she’ll take her sweet ass time, if _at all_. You can’t give me any useful information so you might as well make yourself useful and do your damn job. _Make her come back_ , Sam. You won’t like what happens otherwise.”

If she thought that was going to make him cooperative then Val was an idiot. Still, Sam found himself quivering just a little. Val didn’t make minor threats. She’d do exactly as described if he failed to do what she needed of him.

The thought of luring Paz back though, to someone who wanted to sell her…

Fuck. He couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t.

He just didn’t know how to _not_ do it, at least not yet. He needed time. Needed to let Val’s words process, and to think about what he _could_ do in the meantime. Paz would do the same for him. He wasn’t about to let the captain _use_ her, either, not this way.

Shoulders digging into the door, he bowed his head and glared at the floor. “I…okay. I’ll…figure something out.”

Twenty minutes later, when he was finally released from her clutches and reeling from Val’s risky ideas, he ran into Lonyn just down the hall. When she took him aside for further questioning and revealed her and Sentia’s plans to find Paz on their own, he already knew he’d join their effort.

There was no way he was going to let Val find Paz, not when she was just going to sell her to the Nav anyway. No, if someone was going to find Paz, it’d be him.

They were the only ones who mattered.

Not Osiris.


	81. Ch 79

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, someone will bitchslap Paz later for her critical failure to do anything useful.  
> Chapter Theme: 'Night Thoughts', by Else.

Things were happening. Disastrous things, and yet Paz couldn’t care less. Nothing was more important as holding onto Sam, no matter what she heard or felt. Honestly she couldn’t distinguish anything beyond him anyway, but she knew.

Knew Mandrelle was screaming at her. Knew the ground was trembling, knew someone was attempting to break in from the doors she’d ignored. It didn’t matter. Sam wasn’t coming back and she’d made that happen.

What else was she supposed to be thinking about, or holding, or breaking apart over? Nothing, and not even Mandrelle swatting at her back could fix that.

“Yah. Yah!” If he hit her any harder she’d have struck back, but in the moment Paz couldn’t think beyond Sam. It was stupid, she knew it. Knew it wouldn’t do any good holding on to dead weight. Who cared though? Mandrelle, obviously, but he wasn’t what she cared about.

“Paz, you gotta go, alright?” Mandrelle gasped, still batting at her. “You gotta. I’ll…fuck, I’ll stay with him.”

Paz didn’t have any idea how to refuse the gesture, but she’d damn well stay here until the very end. Between them. With Sam. Fuck the consequences; it wasn’t like she could possibly care anyway. This was her team and, honestly Mandrelle wouldn’t make it much longer, so she would stay. Fuck it. Fuck everything. Sam would’t leave her. She wasn’t leaving them.

“Paz,” Mandrelle groaned. He sounded exhausted. “Kid, you gotta. _Please_.”

Replying never really occurred. She stayed as she was, clinging to Sam like it’d do something.

“You gotta—fuck, kid, why won’t you…”

The fact he never picked up his train of thought had Paz reaching backward until she’d grabbed Mandrelle’s outstretched, limp hand and squeezed tight. Turning wasn’t happening so it was all she could offer.

Fuck. Their last moments weren’t turning out too glorious. Taking that to heart somehow made Paz more relaxed and she took a deep, calming breath for them all. In the background something was crashing down, rocks crumbling and vibrating the ground. This was it. Caishen—well, parts of it—was going down together.

Val would be beside herself with glee if she could see how this shit ended.

“Holy fuck,” someone cursed, loudly and brashly, and it wasn’t the evil captain Paz assumed might return to check her work. Instead, Lonyn’s further curses echoed around them as she stomped over. Metal clattered nearby, like weights being tossed down. All at once Mandrelle was yanked from Paz’s grip, followed by Lonyn’s harsh exclamation. “What the fuck happened?”

Curling closer to Sam, Paz let Lonyn swear and splutter and figure it out on her own. Their pilot promptly stopped accosting her the second she caught sight of Sam’s severed neck, backing away into Mandrelle.

“Noc!” she barked, more footsteps following soon after. “I—fuck!”

“Gods, what…” Noc couldn’t even finish from the sound of it. Clearing his throat, he stepped away as if he couldn’t stand to be near. “See if…if anything can be done to staunch the bleeding. I’ll…hold off what I can.”

That sounded so lackluster it almost made Paz bark out a laugh. Forcing herself to twist, she caught a bleary glimpse of Noc pacing across the gritty concrete, a rifle primed and ready in one hand. At her back Lonyn was busy frantically messing with Mandrelle, her movements too quick to follow. Suspiciously, Sentia was noticeably absent, but she couldn’t focus on that at the moment. No, she had to return to Sam because she couldn’t…

Couldn’t…

Fuck.

Gunfire erupted from outside, roaring in her ears and bringing the present that much closer. Paz didn’t bother covering her ears, though she knew it pushed Lonyn and Noc away. They shouted amongst themselves, Noc clearly edging toward the wrecked doorframe while Lonyn held back. She’d picked up her rifle though, returning shots that Noc apparently hadn’t dealt with. He was too busy, swearing up a storm and reporting figures to their pilot, none of which sounded good.

“I don’t think we’re gonna be able to keep them back,” he conservatively estimated, voice becoming more distant under the raucous noise around them. Lonyn’s returning shout was quieter, too, like she’d waded deeper into the fray.

“Yah, whatever. We do what we can, ye? Aim for the nuts, Noc. Hit ‘em where it hurts.”

That earned a bitter laugh between shots. “Not the head?”

“Nah, make ‘em suffer.”

Noc’s grunted response sounded partially amused. They ceased speaking after that, rounds of bullets and plasma filling the thin air instead. Who was winning? Paz didn’t know. Shots were consistent from near and far—well, until Lonyn swore and chucked the last rifle she’d brought.

“I’m out!”

“Already?” Noc growled, followed by his own curse. “Fuck! We got anything else?”

In an instant Lonyn was over Paz, yanking her by the neck and away from Sam. “You got anything—?”

She couldn’t even finish, not when Paz shoved her off with an unhinged scream. Every second she wasn’t touching Sam was another moment she had to move on and she couldn’t fucking do that right now. So instead of being reasonable she woke the dead and kicked at their pilot until she’d backed up far enough to say out of reach. Sam’s corpse went right with, pulled against Paz’s hyperventilating chest and held tight. If that wasn’t bad enough, now she was crying. Lonyn stood in front of her with a gaping jaw, frozen. Paz couldn’t see through her tears but she suspected the other woman was more than a little confused. Or pissed. Probably both.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Lonyn finally yelled, temper getting the better of her. “Are you _deaf_? Paz, we have to—he’s dead!”

She said it like Paz might reconsider her selfish choices. Clutching Sam tighter, Paz wrapped her legs around him instead. “Fuck off! I’m not—I’m not leaving him.”

“He’s—!”

“ _I’m not leaving him_!” Okay, that came out as another shriek. Paz couldn’t help it. She’d been pretty numb about everything until Lonyn touched her, until she’d made everything real, and now it was like a whole flood of awful feelings were rushing out at once. Her body shook against Sam’s limp one, and knowing that just sent her emotions on another panicked spiral.

Honestly it was best Lonyn stepped back after a huff, silently scanning their surroundings and debating what the hell they should do now. The Hylerian wasn’t stable, Mandrelle was out, and they were out of firepower. Hissing under her breath, she shoved away to Noc’s blurry figure in the distance. They were clearly communicating; Paz couldn’t hear them over her own whimpering at first, but their words grew louder by the minute, an argument ensuing.

“We’re just sitting here! Fuck, I didn’t tag along to be surrounded.”

“You think _I_ did?” Lonyn spat back at Noc, knocking shoulders with him. “Fuck it. I don’t know what else to tell you.” Hands on her hips, she glared back at their useless crew. Again. One dead dealer, one unravelling idiot, and one unconscious beast who was supposed to be their muscle. There truly weren’t a whole lot of options at her and Noc’s disposal.

Fuck.

Paz wanted to do something. She really did, but she was stuck. She couldn’t make herself cooperate, not with Sam dead, and so she whimpered helplessly while Lonyn anxiously paced. This was not good. Nothing was turning out right and they were going to die at the hands of…whoever the fuck kept shooting at the gaping entrance.

And yet Paz could not pry herself from Sam, any semblance of self-preservation gone. It was a horrible feeling, though it was the only thing she could handle. Leaving him? Out of the question. He _was_ her. No fucking way she’d leave him now.

Coming to that realization, that he was a part of her, hurt more than it probably should’ve, but by now Paz was beyond reason. She’d gladly take some bullets. At least then she’d be in the same place as him.

At least the compound was experiencing the same trauma. Around them the building shook following a heavy boom. Somewhere in the background human shouts and barks dissipated, and Noc’s wavering figure inched closer to the entrance. He only stayed a moment, retreating right after and tripping over his boots.

Trotting across the floor, Lonyn took his place with squared shoulders. She poked her head out only a moment before quickly shoving around the entrance’s corner, face visibly going pale behind her helmet while she swore. That shook Paz a little out of her blubbering and she glanced up, watery eyes focusing on the hole.

The hole that suddenly contained a looming figure. Tall, impossibly tall, with off joints and wore no helmet judging by the smooth, angled head.

Despite all the blinking in the world, more tears poured down Paz’s face and she clutched harder at Sam, knees shakily drawing close like they might protect them. Suddenly the air really was too thin, even for her. She couldn’t suck in a full breath even if she tried.

“Topaz.” Stepping inside like they owned the place, Guinto headed straight for her. A gun sat lax at their hip, but they didn’t appear worried about Noc or Lonyn. “You made it.”

That she had, but the Hylerian’s clipped words only made her cry harder. How’d Guinto find her? How long had they been here? Did it even matter?

“M-my crew,” she croaked between gasps, unable to watch Guinto arrive before her. “She—.”

Taking to their knobby knees, Guinto bowed their head, beak shut tight. They didn’t touch or say anything, just remained still while Paz fell apart in front of them.

“I am sorry, Topaz,” they finally remarked, head lowering. “This…” They exhaled slowly. “I am sorry.”

From across the room came Lonyn’s quivering voice. “Ah, who are you?”

After a moment surveying the corpse in Paz’s arms, Guinto calmly twisted to glance over one bony shoulder. Wide, milky jade eyes honed in on the pilot, studying her next. “You’re what remains of Topaz’s crew.”

It wasn’t a question, more like an observation. Hesitating, Lonyn somehow managed a slight nod. She had no idea what she was looking at, the Hylerian jarring her sensibilities. Thankfully, Noc had risen to his feet by now and stood at her side, both gaping at Guinto. In return the Hylerian turned back to Paz and gently raised one hand, a thick digit caressing her jawline in sympathy.

“I wish to give you time to process…this,” they admitted, carefully watching her, “but I would also like to remove you from this place.” Noticing how her arms squeezed around Sam they quickly added, “With all of your crew. May I?”

“Oh no,” Lonyn exclaimed, stomping closer. “Fuck off, dude! I don’t care what you are, we’re not—!”

“You have a ship?” Noc bravely interrupted, sweating just looking at Guinto. He was equally freaked out, but if the Hylerian had made it to their shelter then there was a good chance they had transportation. The Caishen crew was, unfortunately, sorely lacking in that department at the moment.

Glancing to them once more, Guinto confirmed with a sharp click. “Yes. It…will be a tight fit. I recommend we evacuate soon. This is not our battle to fight.”

“Who’s is it?” Lonyn demanded, assuming Guinto meant the storming mystery fleet that’d been overhead on their way to find the others. Again, Guinto regarded her with a keen look.

“I believe my brothers called them the Jaro.”

“Sandova’s up there,” Noc wheezed, leaning into Lonyn as he looked away to a debris-covered corner. Frowning, Lonyn followed his gaze. “You mean—?”

“Ye,” he snapped, swearing more. “Fuck! We need to go.”

“Why?” demanded their pilot, though she wasn’t going to argue the need to leave. Guinto answered soon after.

“Jaro united with the Nav. My brethren aren’t ready to lead those who mingle with the Nav Terran on hallowed ground.”

Which meant…

“There are more?” Paz hiccuped, warily lifting her head. But she’d… “They’re here?”

Guinto’s beak clicked, unable to contain their excitement. “Yes, Topaz. We can speak of this later. We must leave before they pinpoint our location.”

“There’s a ship waiting for us,” Lonyn spoke up, drawing even closer, ignoring Noc’s tense presence beside her. Terrified as she was of Guinto, she recognized they could probably help. “If you can get us out of that mess up there, I can get you—get us somewhere safe.”

Pleased with the cooperation, Guinto eyed Paz. Through her tears, she sniffled and looked down at the precious body cradled in her arms. Mandrelle was still only meters away, but he appeared alive…ish.

If she could hold on to Sam, she’d go.

“I can bring…Sam?” she inquired in a shy whisper, just to be sure, chin dipping to Sam’s bloody shoulder. Taking her in, Guinto offered a soft trill.

“Everyone.”

Logistically, this was going to be a nightmare, but Paz was too tired to do anything besides nod her acceptance. Soon as she’d agreed the Hylerian scooted closer and enveloped both her and Sam in long, strong arms. Then, as if they weighed nothing, Guinto rose on their feet and swiveled around to face the others. Their head tilted at Mandrelle, eyes trained on Noc and Lonyn.

“Carry the Terran,” they calmly instructed, already heading for the hole in the wall. “The fleet outside has been hampered—for now.”

Meaning they needed to hurry. Within seconds the other two crouched on either side of Mandrelle, strategically grabbing and hoisting him between themselves. On primal instinct, they shuffled in the footsteps of Guinto, emerging onto an empty street and turning left to follow the Hylerian down the smoky, battle-down path.

Satisfied the whole crew would be coming, Guinto kept their eyes forward, scanning both the sky and compound for any threats. There were none, but it was habit to remain vigilant. They did, however, glance back down at their cargo about the time Paz began crying again, whimpering pitifully and shivering in the Hylerian’s grip.

Against better judgment, they gently squeezed the human, and corpse, and softly chirped, “Don’t stop holding him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think all the other Hylerians out there weren't asleep for centuries and were doing something constructive with all that time ;)


	82. Ch 80

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Caishen crew (and Guinto) returns to the Lakai, and of course Coram is not pleased. Also, pretty confused.

Guinto had a new ship, a nearly identical copy of the last one except in space. It was only slightly larger than the last one, but that extra bit of room made all the difference. The Hylerian had led the crew down several deserted blocks and under the cover of thick smoke, and when they arrived Lonyn righteously scoffed at the deep-blue, metallic sphere resting before them with nary a single whining engine to be heard. Noc followed suit, but when the capsule opened and Guinto beckoned them inside they fell silent.

Climbing into a strange ship piloted by a strange thing neither of them could identify? That had the potential to go completely wrong in so, _so_ many ways. And yet, as Guinto climbed in after the others and directed them to get comfortable where they could, it was clearly the only option they had. Better to at least try escaping than remain stuck in Balain.

After the initial pre-flight check with two humans still in their lap, Guinto asked for coordinates from Lonyn. Lonyn…didn’t have exact coordinates, but she’d been in spotty contact with Reeser since they’d left and had a general idea of the Lakai’s last location, which was better than nothing. Destination targeted, Guinto swept thick fingers over the near-holographic dash, prepping for their flight in a little under three minutes.

Each of those minutes, by the way, had Lonyn and Noc worrying over the unconscious beast lying over both of them, and also for the Hylerian in the other Hylerian’s lap who kept looping through intervals of sniveling.

Securing their cargo with one long arm, Guinto gave a casual warning to the others to hold on.

It wasn’t helpful at all.

Warping from the ground to the sky should’ve never been a thing that existed, yet it did and it terrified every single living and conscious human in the capsule. Noc didn’t hold back in his screams though Lonyn did a considerably better job holding it together, and Paz would’ve cared more if she hadn’t been so consumed with grief. Still, no one would ever get _used_ to the sensation of winking in and out of existence. Guinto of course chirped in amusement, scanned the horizon in their vicinity for any threats, shot down a couple rogue ships that vaguely looked Nav-issued, and then warped again.

This time they hit Hyleris’s upper stratosphere, and Noc had just enough time to begin dry-heaving before they blinked out of existence again, appearing near Hyleris’s second moon. By then Guinto shifted the capsule onward, zipping away from their home and into the void’s depths at an ungodly speed. They blinked in and out over and over, skipping great gaps of space that’d likely have taken at least a day to cover otherwise.

No one had time to ask questions. They’d already hit the target coordinates in under twenty minutes, the void whipping by in a blur of silvery streaks, Guinto’s dash lighting up with new information all over the place. Picking up on the Lakai’s faint traces of fuel, they shot right after it, plunging even deeper into Andromeda’s dark space.

The Lakai wasn’t fair at all, either. It hung in a shadowed corner of the sector, blending in with a belt of asteroids in order to stay off the Nav’s radar. Upon approach, it became clear the Hylerian ship wasn’t going to welcome any visitors.

“They’re not going to let us in,” Lonyn muttered, sinking in her seat while watching the Lakai loom closer and closer. “I—if I can talk to somebody in there, they might, but…” The last time they’d attempted this hadn’t gone so great, and that currently swirled through her thoughts.

Guinto didn’t seem to harbor the same worries. Instead, they merely sent a docking request ship to ship, overriding several denials of acknowledgment, drifting closer and closer until the Lakai had no choice but to acknowledge or terminate any outside threats. They went with the latter option, though Guinto nullified their efforts by disabling the Lakai’s external power.

_That_ rendered them sitting ducks.

Sick as she’d become via the warps, Lonyn watched on, entertained as fuck to see the Lakai at their mercy. Given how easily Guinto’s small ship decimated the Nav’s lingering forces, it was very likely they could destroy the creeping frigate that was the Lakai as well.

They wouldn’t get to see that today though. Instead, the Lakai grudgingly pinged back, and a terse yet familiar voice filled Guinto’s cramped cabin.

“We don’t accept invites. You’ve got five minutes to back off.”

“They need time to repair controls,” Lonyn helpfully murmured to Guinto, hardly a meter away from the Hylerian’s broad shoulders, with Mandrelle’s upper half in her lap while Noc worked on the big guys’ leg. Through their warping, his brutalized limb had somehow been cauterized, which was a miraculous stroke of luck at this point. Eyes scanning the other ship, she figured if they could get in they might have access to a regeneration chamber that’d help him even further. He wouldn’t get his foot or lower leg back, but…well, it was something. “I doubt they can actually kick your shit off, but that’s what they’re going for.”

Next to her, Guinto’s shoulder’s loosened. They tapped some more on the dash, several monitors silencing their data and focusing on the Lakai’s external outputs. Answering the ping, Guinto first clicked their beak several times before remarking, “I’ve brought the Caishen crew. Open your hangar or we will enter regardless, and the damage will be costly.”

The cabin went silent a full minute before anyone responded. “State your affiliation and why you have the Caishen. _Now_.”

The first person to speak hadn’t been super identifiable, but that one…Coram’s voice made Paz curl closer to Guinto and Sam, wishing they’d gone literally anywhere else.

Guinto wasted no time, though they remained unhurried. “Hyleris. The Caishen lacked transportation. I provided it.”

More silence. Then, “Fuck off, we’re—”

“Open the fucking hangar, douchebag, or I’ll pry it open with my bare hands,” Lonyn loudly snarled, upper lip raised in a sneer. “Otherwise you’re never getting that goddamned stick!”

Instantly the Lakai granted Guinto access, and Guinto released their hold on the Lakai’s outer power. A beat later the hangar gate was opening, yawning wide for the smaller ship. With a satisfied chirp, Guinto taxied for the entrance, their ship swallowed into the safety of the Lakai’s belly just minutes after they’d made contact.

No one expected the welcoming committee to be friendly, or even good. Noc expressed a whole host of concerns, but at that point he was too exhausted and sick to do more than warn them. Obviously Coram and his crew wouldn’t be pleased—they’d stolen a shit ton of absom, blatantly ignored Coram’s orders, and if they’d found the stick they hadn’t mentioned it beyond Lonyn’s slight teaser. Paz, though she’d barely paid attention and was an emotional wreck, couldn’t feel an artifact on board. Granted, she wasn’t trying very hard, either.

In an effort to possibly keep themselves alive, Guinto volunteered to exit first. Whoever welcome them would see Paz in their arms first which, for all intents and purposes, would be the best best. It wasn’t ideal, but they’d roll with whatever happened. So long as they were out of the Nav’s reach, they’d take things as they could.

X

Impatiently waiting on the hangar docks, Coram continued staring daggers at the foreign capsule that’d chosen a prime parking bay and hadn’t shown any signs of life since it’d touched down. He’d been staring at it the entire time, either from the safety of the gangplank or, like now, directly in front of it on the tarmac, unsure what to think. His best team stood by, rifles trained on the vessel but watching just the same.

Paz’s stupid ‘crew’ was stupid for returning. He couldn’t wait for them to stumble out so he could rip them all new assholes, but so far it’d been that stunned silence from the capsule and anxious clearing of throats around him.

_Why_ had they come back? He was a-fucking-ware of that asshole Sam who’d stolen _all_ their absom, which put them back months in terms of production. Then there was the fact they’d abandoned one of _his_ ships, which the Nav had happily confiscated thank you very much. Oh, and there was the part where Paz and company had ceased all communications after they’d tried leaving with _his supplies and transportation_ , so you know…their return was a _little_ confusing.

And they’d apparently hitched a ride on this…thing. It looked incredibly similar to the ship that alien Paz befriended piloted, so that was literally the only reason they hadn’t attempted breaking it open. Yet. Part of him hoped they were about to meet an alien, even if circumstances obviously weren’t ideal. Still. It would be really cool, and he had a lot of questions.

More minutes passed with nothing happening, raising both suspicion and anxiety in everyone. There was a strong possibility whatever emerged wouldn’t be friendly, though Lonyn’s angry snap forced them to recognize the vessel likely held at least part of the crew he’d sent off to Hyleris several days prior. And, if she had the key that was even better—they’d rip it off her before she could try escaping with it.

Because duh, of course they’d attempt another escape. He wasn’t stupid.

Apparently, _they_ weren’t that stupid, either, if they hadn’t left the capsule yet. Grinding his jaw, Coram figured they were plotting to their advantage. Good luck with that. There was nowhere to go.

Finally— _finally_ —a slight hiss filled the air, and a sliver of the capsule’s smooth surface popped forth. Literally everyone in the hangar tensed. Somewhere behind him he heard Aim mutter something about drama. He agreed with that sentiment.

_Give an ultimatum_ , Desh advised via ping. He was currently working on re-fortifying their external systems with several of their engineers and, Coram was happy to note, his second was also very pissed with Paz and crew at the moment. Served him right for believing in a Fed-born crew.

Arms crossed over his chest, the captain obliged in earnest. “Better come out before we pry that door open. _You_ won’t like our version of force, either.”

Even from outside he could hear someone bitching back, albeit muffled. At least it accompanied the ship’s side popping open a fraction further, a rectangular door becoming more prominent. Shifting his stance, he glared at the door, impatiently waiting for it to slide open. Seriously, this was taking forever. He—

He felt her before anything else, but when the door whooshed away and something he couldn’t even comprehend filled the entryway, all he really saw was Paz. Covered in blood, tears continuously leaking down a puffy, ruddy face, and clutching a corpse. A headless corpse at that.

Fuck.

All the anger left his body. Stepping back, Coram held his breath and sent out a ping telling his crew to hold off. They all watched, waiting as Guinto hopped down to the tarmac, unfolding to full height and readjusting the two human bodies in their grip. Large, milky green eyes blinked before glancing about sizing up the Lakai’s available crew. Keeping their eyes on the others, they dipped their head until their beak touched Paz’s crown, whispering something inaudible to her. In response, Paz turned her face into the Hylerian’s chest, head rocking back and forth. Focus snapping to Coram, the Hylerian continued speaking to her. It made her more upset, but eventually the shaking of her head turned into a slight, hesitant nod.

Satisfied, Guinto straightened. They took a casual step forward, then another when nobody tried stopping them. Every bone in Coram’s body tensed, Paz’s presence putting him in an uncomfortable state. He didn’t like the energy radiating off her, but it wasn’t like there was much that could be done. There _was_ a body sandwiched between hers and the alien.

And, yes, there was the alien to deal with, too. He supposed this was the same one she’d dealt with before on account of how close they were, but this was unexpected. They’d only realized this was a possibility about ten minutes ago when the ship appeared in the Lakai’s hangar, so it was fairly hard to process everything they were looking at.

“Her crew requires medical,” the alien eventually spoke once satisfied with whatever permission it’d received from Paz. “They are…missing a limb.”

“Ye, we can see that,” Coram deadpanned, though he felt bad about his tone almost instantly. Now Paz was crying harder, and the _thing_ had narrowed their eyes at him in contempt.

“Be mindful,” Guinto advised, accented by a solitary click. “They will bring him out.”

Him—?

Starting, Coram frowned. If he had to guess, the body being clutched by both Paz and Guinto was…Sam. Which…wasn’t good, but he didn’t see a missing limb in the tangle of bodies. Missing head, yes, but no limb. Minutes ago he wouldn’t have even cared, but seeing how much Paz cared? That was something else.

Carefully toeing the ground, he nodded to Aim. “Get your team. Ah, who—who else?”

“Mandrelle,” Lonyn answered for the whole crew as she emerged first, dropping to the pavement and turning sharply to hold out her arms like she was expecting something else. The captain didn’t miss the fact that she, too, was covered in blood. “He’s our crew. Don’t worry, he’s out. Oh, and we’ve got a defector.”

Said defector emerged at that moment, cautiously keeping his head low as he knelt over the vessel’s lip, pulling a massive body face-first over his knee and dropping him in Lonyn’s waiting arms.

Jaw hanging loose, Coram didn’t know what to address first. First of all, why the fuck was Noc with these guys? He’d—he’d _begged_ Noc to abandon the Nav before and it hadn’t worked. There’d been no reason to believe that’d ever change and also, Coram was still a little pissed about his previous time holed up with Noc. Secondly, who the fuck was the beast Lonyn just barely managed holding up? Yes, the stump of a leg did make him considerably smaller but even so, he was—

Oh, wait. That was the guy from Osiris. Val’s headhunter. Why was he…?

Confused, Coram kept his eyes on the ship even after Noc had slid down with Lonyn. He kept expecting to see the last member of Paz’s crew, yet Sentia never appeared. That was…what the fuck had happened?

“Where’s Malang?” he inquired, surprised when Noc and Lonyn hunched their shoulders, both sets of eyes turning to angry slits.

“She’s a fucking traitor and if I ever see her again she’s dead,” Lonyn ground out, apparently the only one capable of speaking at the moment. Shuffling around, she and Noc held Mandrelle’s unconscious body between them. “Now can we use a regeneration chamber or what?”

At least Aim was paying attention. She rushed over to the trio, already stooping to get a better look at the ill-wrapped leg in question. Sucking in air, she didn’t appear optimistic. That didn’t stop her from calling over others and guiding the three toward the rest of the Lakai. Noc would’ve successfully escaped unnoticed had Coram not stalked over, yanking the other Hylerian in place until further notice. Aim’s team could take over carrying Mandrelle for the time being.

“Stay,” the captain snarled, glancing back and forth between Aim’s distancing group, the alien, and Noc. “I have questions.”

It only took a moment’s hesitation for Noc to pull out of his grip, staying where he was regardless. Looking Coram up and down with a slight hint of disgust, Noc sighed heavily. “As do I. But—.” Stopping himself, he focused behind Coram where the sobbing was coming from, then lowered his voice. “ _That_ just happened. Get—take care of _that_ first.”

Coram had a feeling Noc wanted to say _get that corpse out of her hands_ , but what he’d said aloud was much more polite. Nodding in understanding, he leaned in an quietly asked, “What happened?”

Noc shrugged, disgust growing. “Beats me. We’d split up, and when we returned it was just…like that.”

Head dipping, Coram swiveled around to face the last trio. Guinto hadn’t moved an inch, casually observing the captain’s interaction, and Paz was still a mess in the alien’s arms. The corpse continued taking up space, and while Noc said ‘that’ had just happened, the wound had been cauterized. Weird. He dared looking directly at Guinto, absolutely unnerved by the alien’s scrutiny. If Noc didn’t know and his only other sources were occupied, he figured the Hylerian was his best bet.

“Ah, do you…?” Backing up, he tried again. “I mean, I’m Captain Coram Halverson. I—”

“I know who you are,” Guinto sharply cut in, shifting slightly. “Take me to Topaz’s quarters. We will discuss matters afterward.”

Well, the alien didn’t fuck around. Figured. Unwilling to be shown up on his own ship, Coram steeled himself and placed both hands on his hips. “Oh, and what matters do _we_ have to discuss?”

“Take us to her quarters,” Guinto leveled, refusing to say anything more. “ _Now_.”

They stared at one another, neither breaking down until Noc awkwardly cleared his throat.

“Do as they say,” he murmured, already limping closer to the alien for…moral support? Who the fuck knew, but Coram wasn’t going to keep guessing. Sending out another ping to his crew, the captain begrudgingly motioned Guinto forward. It wouldn’t do to try and kill something that’d supposedly survived countless millennia. Possibly. Honestly, he had no clue. Paz’s sporadic ramblings hadn’t exactly been clear or easy to follow, and furthermore, he’d had a difficult time believing her.

And now one held her while she went to pieces over Sam. His heart wrenched again at that thought, guilt stabbing hard and low. This could’ve been avoided if he’d just—

Nope. No way. They’d _begged_ to go. This wasn’t his doing.

It still felt…wrong, and that likely had to do with the anguish pouring off Paz and vibrating right up his spine.

The walk from the hangar to the chamber Paz once shared with Sam was incredibly long and awkward. Each hall they ventured through had been cleared, keeping others from seeing this weird procession. Coram never looked back, mostly because he couldn’t stomach it.

Upon arrival he did make a barrier in front of the door, barring entrance momentarily. Back still to the others he took a deep breath and said, “It’s a bit of a mess. We…had reason to search the room after their departure.”

He was met with silence. Well, other than Paz’s sniffling. Twisting, Coram found Guinto didn’t care. If he didn’t, well…

The captain slowly stepped aside, dragging the door open with him. This unfortunately revealed a ransacked pigsty he and Desh had thoroughly worked through just days ago, and yet Guinto paid no mind. Instead, the Hylerian simply stepped through, one leg bent at an awkward angle. Coram found that weird until the bony protrusion of an ankle grabbed the door and slammed it shut behind them. Both he and Noc, who’d stood by, stared at the partition, unsure what that was about. Coram thought about barging in and bitching that there would be no shut doors, at least not yet, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Which was fine because a moment later the normally quiet hall filled with terribly loud gasps for air while Paz cried harder.

And harder.

And then stopped while someone, presumably Guinto, chirped and hushed her. At that point Noc had wandered away to sit along the hallway wall, head in his hands, presumably to wonder what he’d just done with his life by joining Paz’s crew. Coram however had stayed. He wasn’t sure why; he just didn’t want to go anywhere. Knocking his own skull back on the wall, he shut his eyes and waited, hoping to at least get rid of the body once Paz’s guard was down. Holding on never helped. He knew from experience.

That was the plan, at least. Guinto’s soft words had become more clear, soothing even to the captain.

“Breathe. It’s all you need to do. That’s it. Nothing more.”

“But it’s—my—fault,” he heard Paz whimper, a pathetic whine following. “It is. I left—I shouldn’t—shouldn’t have—”

“Shh. You couldn’t know.”

“But I— _knew._ ”

“You did not. Don’t think of that. Breathe. Hold him. That’s all.”

Paz’s succeeding cries were pitiful. He probably should’ve left her alone at this point but Coram couldn’t have moved himself even if he’d wanted to. He just…had to be there.

“It’s my—”

“It is _not_. Do not desecrate his passing with that.”

“No, you don’t—you don’t get it,” Paz panted. She almost sounded drunk. “He—if he hadn’t come for me, she wouldn’t—.”

_Now_ Guinto was quiet, waiting for her to finish.

“She wouldn’t have done it. She wouldn’t—.”

“Who?” the Hylerian patiently asked between sobs.

It took considerable time before she calmed down. In that expanse Coram heard the alien pushing things away and settling Paz. He hated that he wanted to be the one in there. He’d been pissed at her a mere half hour ago. Why that’d changed he didn’t want to analyze. He just wanted in there.

Especially once she tearfully croaked, “Val.”


End file.
